


Misc. Spirk (K/S) Ficlets

by shittyficramblings (LifeLineOfDarkness)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: A little bit of angst, Accidental Voyeurism, Alien Biology, Bottom Kirk, Claiming, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Episode: s02e05 Amok Time, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings, Ficlets, First Time, Hand & Finger Kink, Intervention, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mating, Mating Bond, McCoy knows, Much More - Freeform, Possessive Spock, Psychic Bond, Some Fluff, Spocks POV, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, T'hy'la, Top Spock, Voyeurism, Vulcan Biology, bondmates, devious kirk, he's a captain for a reason, kirk's not oblivious, not every chapter is explicit, old married spirk, scientist!Spock, we all know kirk has a thing for being shoved into things, when i write more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-04-06 07:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14051943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeLineOfDarkness/pseuds/shittyficramblings
Summary: I'm going to be basically putting all my little kink ficlets into this, along with headcannons and cute things. At some point, I'm going to go through Amok Time from Spock's POV, why he left the Enterprise to pursue kolinahr, and many more.The stories are all alternate, none are connected to each other unless specified.





	1. Marking/Claiming/Kirk has a telepathy kink

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is Explicit!
> 
> Contains: Marking, claiming, experiments, Scientist!Spock, Kirk not being oblivious, devious!Kirk, Explicit slash, mating, loss of control, exhibitionism kink.

A curious observation had been occupying the _Enterprise_ ’s First Officer’s mind recently. Spock could place the first incident to Eminiar VII when he had used his telepathic abilities to lure the guard posted outside to open the door. There was nothing odd about the act itself, nor was there anything different about the situation, but Spock could tell there was a shift in the Captain. Spock was more focused at the time which was why he didn’t note the occurrence as carefully as he normally would have until it happened again.

 

Spock was performing a very non-challenging telepathic communication with a life-form on a routine diplomacy mission as a symbol of trust on the planet Yilsa--a recent addition to the Federation. He was focused but not to the point of ignorance to the change in his Captain. Kirk’s breathing and heart-rate had both increased upon Spock’s first contact with the being, Spock noticed the Captain had leaned closer during the weak telepathic linking with a familiar but, paradoxically, unfamiliar look pulling at his features. Spock analyzed.

 

Captain Kirk’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, forming a small wrinkle between them, his face was slightly flushed--a reaction to which Spock knew the physiological source, but could not identify the cause of--along with his pupil dilation to 45 percent, eyes slightly unfocused on Spock’s hands, breathing slowed. As Spock withdrew his mind and hands from the alien being, Kirk blinked and the expression was gone. The Captain’s demeanor was back to its typical flirtatious and charming sway as he vehemently repeated the welcome gestures of the natives. _Fascinating._ Spock would need to experiment further before a complete hypothesis could be formed.

 

Spock had no moral or ethical concerns with his quite blatant experimentation on his Captain. As a scientist, Spock had every right to thoroughly examine the environment around him to find the answers to his hypotheses and build his knowledge of the universe, and his experimentation was certainly not causing the Captain any harm nor was it endangering the crew--a sentiment that Spock lived by as both a Starfleet officer and as a Vulcan under the teachings of Surak. Nevertheless, Spock was more than aware of the illogical emotive reasoning of his fellow crewmates and decided it was best not to share his… _research_ with anyone.

 

This was the one and only reason why he had continued the careful observation of Captain Kirk and his reactions to the Vulcan’s telepathic abilities, listing and noting any changes in his Captain’s breathing, pulse rate, expression, and body language amid his rare encounters during which his mental capabilities were needed. Spock had repeated this to himself countless times until, despite this rigorous self-denial that he was conducting the experiments for any reason other than pure scientific curiosity, Spock could no longer claim this was the only motive. This admission had come to actualization during a chess match with the subject of his most personal observations.

 

“Spock.” Kirk mused as he moved his knight to the second row of their chess board.

 

“Yes, Captain?” Spock had been using only half of his mental facilities to focus on the strategic movements of his pieces, the other half had been once more dedicated to his research. Contradictory to his typical research, Spock had found himself more and more straying his observations of his Captain outside of when he performed his telepathic incidents.

 

“Spock, I’ve had a question rolling around in my head for a while. You don’t… have to answer if you don’t want to… I’ve just. It’s become somewhat unbearable.”

 

“Indeed?” Spock allowed a reassuring head-tilt to indicate to Kirk that he should continue as he absently moved a rook. Spock noted that his own heart had started to pump faster and he reigned his control in to halt its distracting effect. He had his suspicions on what his superior officer was about to disclose, suspicions borne of his most recent small experiment on his Captain.

 

Kirk nervously wrung his hands before capturing Spock’s rook with his knight. He inhaled deeply, then:

 

“I was curious about your… you know,” Kirk’s hand slipped behind his neck in a display of anxiety, “your telepathic… stuff.”

 

Spock straightened in his chair, a loss of control on his part. He had known it was coming yet he had not been prepared.

 

“‘Stuff’, sir?” Spock’s voice may have held a teasing tone.

 

“Spock. You’re stalling.”

 

So he was. “What would you like to know, Captain? I will share as much as I am willing, due to the private nature of your line of questioning. I endeavor to please.” Spock claimed another pawn.

 

 _Endeavor to please_ , Kirk mouthed with a slanted grin, seemingly to himself.

 

“How does it work? I mean, I know _how_ it works--you touch someone and know things. But. How does it _feel_ \--sensationally, that is. Can you tell a man’s deepest secrets or hear his thoughts from a simple touch?” The words were hesitant and stuttering at first, then easing into a near-purr.

 

Spock paused. Kirk’s full attention was on him and he knew that their game had been discarded. Spock took a moment to regard his Captain and almost regretted it instantly. Kirk wore the same expression as so many times before: heated, curious, leaning forward, licking his lips. The difference between those moments and now was the firm eye contact that was held between them, reminiscent of the close connection of their eye contact during battle and hostage situations. Obviously this time it was different--the only hostage here would be Spock, having allowed himself to be lured into the trap of James T. Kirk and his constant gravitational pull.

 

Collecting himself, Spock allowed his vocal cords to tone a deeper octave than usual, internally chiding himself for his unprofessional behavior and unnecessarily adding further variables to his research: this was not a test of Kirk’s reaction to his _voice_ …but he was rather capable of conducting two experiments at one time. “Sensationally, I could liken it to a “warm bath”. Depending on the compatibility between the participants, the sensation and depth of the communication will vary. I can become fully immersed in one’s consciousness, or I can barely skim the surface with slight touch. The majority of the time, my mental shields will maintain and prevent me from catching emotions or thoughts from everyday touches.”

 

As Spock spoke, Kirk’s breathing had slowed, his pupils had dilated, and his hands had settled on the table, inching closer to Spock. Spock raised an inquisitive eyebrow at them.

 

“Spock, can you tell what I’m thinking? By touching my hand? Try it out.”

 

“Are you certain, Captain?”

 

“Yes, Spock! Please, just…” Kirk rotated his palm upward.

 

Spock’s other eyebrow joined his first. _This could provide useful data_ , Spock convinced himself as he reached out. His fingers hovered over Kirk’s palm for a moment before gently trailing them along to the base of his fingers, then pressed down. Kirk gasped almost inaudibly, a sound that, had he been a Human, Spock would not have heard. As part Vulcan Spock could hear the intake of breath, the heartbeat that sped up, could see the slight widening of Kirk’s eyes, his posture as he shifted in his chair to a more comfortable position.

 

“Ready, Captain?”

 

“ _Spock._ ”

 

“Very well, then I will lower my shields.”

 

Spock closed his eyes and focused on gently unhinging his mental barriers, a difficult task as he had been keeping them up for so long. Slowly he allowed his mind to filter down and surge from his head, through his neck, and down his arm to his fingers, seeking for Kirk’s mind. The connection was instant and the initial emotions crashed over Spock. He mentally immediately categorized and identified the emotions, storing them away for later. Shock. Curiosity. Excitement. Affection. Spock frowned slightly; barely a twitch on his lips. Kirk noticed and cleared his throat, startling Spock out of his reverie. The voice that cautiously announced itself in his mind belonged to James--Jim:

 

 _Checkmate_.

 

Spock clenched his jaw as he suddenly withdrew his hand from Kirk’s palm. His eyes snapped to the chess board, and absorbed the sly move his Captain had pulled. Spock mentally huffed in indignation, a sense of disappointment making itself known. Spock looked at Kirk momentarily, and then began to clear up the chess pieces.

 

“So it is.” He stated crisply.

 

“So it worked, then?” Kirk’s excited voice bubbled up nearby him, nearly shocking him out of his thoughts; the man sounded slightly out of breath.

 

“Indeed. Captain, I apologize but I must meditate before retiring for the night. If you’ll excuse me.” Spock inclined his head, before smoothly leaving the Captain’s quarters and entering the ship’s hallway.

 

The hiss of the door behind him encouraged him to return to his own quarters, which were merely only a few strides away. As soon as he was safely inside his room, Spock engaged the lock to his doors and started removing and folding his uniform, placing it on the edge of his bed as he lit the ceremonial candle and gently wrapped himself in the meditation robes of his people. Spock took his usual cross-legged meditation stance and sank back into his mind, pulling out the information of the day and analyzing it.

 

Spock had just begun to relax and sift through his thoughts when he was suddenly interrupted. Curious, he teased the interruption, seeking it out and trying to find its source. When the interruption started speaking, Spock stopped cold.

 

_Fuck._

 

This was not appropriate. Spock refrained from using profanities as they were unnecessary. Soon, though, the Vulcan realized that the thought did not originate from his own mind. The word had sounded familiar, he had heard this voice before--

 

_Spock, holy shit._

 

Jim. Spock groaned inwardly, aware that his meditation would not likely continue tonight. The assault of emotions he was experiencing were putting a stop to that. They were not his own. Mostly, if he were to be honest with himself. Re-solidifying his mental barriers and opening his eyes, he removed his robes and extinguished the candle. He was about to return to his bed when his knees buckled. It was only for a moment; his Vulcan control saw to that, but it was with a new, faster, pace that he came to his bed and draped himself over the covers unceremoniously.

 

Curiosity killed the cat. It was an old Earth expression, but he found himself in a similar situation. His curiosity to _know_ what Jim had been thinking, what he had been _doing_. Spock blamed it on his own Human weakness as he gave in, and allowed his mental shields down once more, inhaling sharply at the flood of emotions pouring into his mind. He could instantly name the sensations barraging his mind and body; they were simplistic and primal. Desire, lust, want, excitement, need. The waves washed over him, shaking him. He was finally adjusting to the emotions when the voice returned, and a new horror revealed itself as he helplessly grew aroused.

 

_Fuck. Spock. Does he know? Can he hear me? Shit, shit, what if he can? Vulcan hearing. Wait what if he can hear my thoughts, does he have to touch to do that? Touch. Touch. He touched me today finally, fuck, it was so hot. I could barely contain myself. I need to regain some sense of control, I can’t have him or the crew find out about--_

 

Images soon trickled into Spock’s mind as well. Images of Jim bent over the navigator console, being filled, touching himself, moaning Spock’s name. Spock was in these images--fantasies, he realized, with a new flood of desire that was entirely his own--he was penetrating his Captain on the bridge, over the railing, his chair.

 

_God. I can’t believe I did that. Sulu wouldn’t touch his station if he knew I’d fucked myself over it thinking of my First Officer. My best friend. I want to desecrate all of the sacred areas of the ship. All of our fun places, mark them with our cum. I wonder if Spock can smell as well as he can hear. Would he be able to smell our scents when he bent over his scanner?_

 

The man in question moaned quietly aloud, knowing the sound would be muffled by the walls and their mutual bathroom. He wanted to respond to Jim’s questions. Yes. He’d be able to smell the scent of their release, even after it had been carefully removed. He thrust his hips up desperately against nothing, and finally allowed his hand to curl around the flesh that had emerged from its pouch at his crotch. The organ slipped easily in his hand with its natural lubricant.

 

_He’s always being so sassy, I’ll put that mouth to good use. He can’t mouth off about his superior officer with his mouth full of my cock. He’d probably take control, though, with his Vulcan instincts. Suck me until I was a puddle...on the floor...yes, yes. He’s always impeccable, I wonder if he could maintain that composure with my mouth on him. His lovely long fingers could join in, too. I bet they’re sensitive, fuck. Fuck fuck...close...I’m…_

 

Spock nearly growled into his pillow as he needily propelled his hips into his palm, the psionic points all stimulating and looping in his mind, the wet sound of his hand sliding up and down his phallus spurring him on. This was not the first time he had masturbated to thoughts of his Captain, but this was the first time the images had been so clear. Losing his stability, Spock pitched forward faster and sucked messily on his fingers, he could practically taste Jim on his tongue from his psi points. The pressure in his stomach was building and his heart thudded loudly in his side. Spock could name each muscle that was contracting as he neared his climax, but he found he did not care to. His mental capacity had diminished significantly as he gave way to pleasure, and he orgasmed powerfully as the pleasure tingled in his head, feet, hands, pulsing out of him onto his stomach. He realized somewhat later that he had been panting and exhaling a variety of lewd noises.

 

 _Jim._ His mind called out before he could stop it. It was an imitation of his voice, but just as broken as he felt as his mental clarity slowly returned. His penis absently released a few more throbs of semen before retracting back into his body.

 

His shields were up as soon as he gathered enough strength. He considered going to the bathroom and showering, but thought better of it. If he made any indication of being awake or needing cleanliness he would certainly be discovered. Spock gently closed his hands around the nearest fabric and wiped at his chest and abdomen, discovering with dawning horror that he had used his meditation robes to do this. Sighing, Spock realized he would need to clean these tomorrow before he could successfully meditate. His rest that night was solid and immediate, and he awoke to the lights of his room indicating his shift.

 

Unusually, Spock was not looking forward to his shift on the bridge. He was unsure of the strength of the somewhat tentative accidental mind-link he had created with his Captain the previous night. Admittedly he was more concerned with his own mental strength to keep his barriers from failing out of curiosity. Unfolding and donning his “science blues”, Spock made a final attempt to compose himself, and stepped into the hallway, calculating the fastest and second fastest routes to the bridge, and elected to take the latter. For logical reasons, of course. He’d have to have time to adjust to this new... _development_ and walking the extra 10.34 Earth seconds would aid his pursuit of partial meditation.

 

To his credit, Spock had been able to maintain his mental shields longer than he would have thought he could. The _Enterprise_ was on its way to the nearest Starfleet outpost, with an estimated time of arrival set at 3 days 5 hours 15 minutes, and 112 seconds and counting. Spock had little to do besides keep up his laboratory work--which he had finished the previous day, a clear misstep on his part--and hold his position on the bridge as a First Officer. Spock had attempted to remain standing for the majority of his shift to keep himself in check, but had an illogical sensation of being watched whenever he checked his scanner or turned his back to the Captain’s chair. Kirk had always watched him. It was necessary for them to have an intimate understanding of the other’s reactions to situations to formulate theories on how to respond in situations of distress. Spock had not previously considered a possible...ulterior motive to Kirk’s attention to him until after the events of the previous night.

 

A yeoman broke him out of his dangerous thoughts, offering him an order to sign. Spock quickly skimmed through the notice, and graced the stylus against the PADD, capturing the signature. In his peripheral vision he could see Captain Kirk watching him. This was the “final straw” as the Human term went, and as he handed the PADD back to the expectant yeoman, his mental block against the mind-link eroded. He inhaled deeply and swiveled around in his seat to distract himself as he focused on times-tables and his research. Just as before he was aware of the sensation of a dam being broken and the familiar cascade of emotions and urges targeted at him from the commanding officer seated a mere 3.5 meters away.

 

Spock slowed his respiration, and put almost all of his concentration on repressing his body’s natural response of arousal. He was succeeding, but only barely. It would have been much easier if the Captain wasn’t currently picturing them making (im)proper use of the Chair. Had his Captain always been this...filthy in his thoughts during the lazy hours when they had nothing to do but maintain the ship and wait for arrival? How was he maintaining such a composure whilst his imagination brought them to these places? Spock may have underestimated Kirk’s control on his body and expression, though the Vulcan sincerely doubted that Human will alone could force or reject an erection.

 

The First Officer waited until he could no longer sense the Captain’s heated stare on him, to turn and survey the damage. The Captain was a portrait of innocence: eyes bright and lips tugged into a mirthful smile as he tapped through the PADD in his lap, chuckling slightly.

 

Spock decided to do yet another experiment, although for this one no hypothesis nor real testing would be needed. He naturally stood--as naturally as he could with the strain on his mental processes--and carefully walked to his position behind the Captain’s Chair, the image of a predator circling his prey suddenly placing itself in his thoughts. Maintaining his usual posture, hands clasped behind his back, Spock leaned down close to the unsuspecting Kirk.

 

“ _Enjoying_ yourself?”

 

Kirk started slightly, then shivered, his smile faltering as he took in the imposing Vulcan figure leaning over him. At this proximity the mind-link was as strong as possible, and it was a definite test of Spock’s strength as he was inundated with emotion. Lust. Affection. Joy. Horror. Amusement. Fear...curiosity. Deviousness. The thrum of the bridge was dulled in his mind as the Captain’s--Jim’s--face morphed into something absolutely vicious, and before Spock could analyze the intent in Jim’s smirk, the Captain had slightly moved the PADD in his lap, intentionally drawing Spock’s attention to what it had been concealing.

 

Jim was hard, the obvious bulge in his black pants pressing against the corner of the PADD, and it was continuing to thicken and jump as Spock watched, helplessly, on the bridge, surrounded by his crewmates. And even as he was watching, he was hearing Jim’s mental vocalizations.

 

_Surprised? What I would give for you to lose control right here in front of everyone. What would you do to me? Show me, Spock. You know you want to, stubborn Vulcan. You’re not the only one who’s studied behavior for his career. I know that look, Spock._

 

Spock swallowed despite himself and determined he had approximately 15.67 seconds before his mental control over his body would snap, and he pictured himself thrusting into Jim in front of the entire bridge crew, horrified at his arousal at the thought. It was logical, he told himself, Vulcan mating centers around marking and claiming.

 

“Hey, Spock? I need to go over some reports, do you think you could help me with that?” The man asked, his captain mask back in place, despite his blown pupils dictating his second meaning to the statement.

 

“Certainly, Captain. Your productivity increases by 24.7 percent when I am present.” His voice was almost unnoticeably deeper than usual.

 

“Scotty, you have the Con!” Kirk called, fluidly gliding to the turbolift, Spock in hot pursuit. Inside, Jim grabbed the handle of the turbolift, gruffly saying, “Captain’s quarters.”

 

Once the doors shut, Jim turned to Spock, easing his face towards Spock’s. Waiting, Spock realized, for his consent. _How considerate._ Spock thought dryly, remembering what the Captain had been thinking only moments earlier. Spock growled deeply in his throat, and pressed his lips to Jim’s, reaching for his hand as he did so. Jim, confused, attempted to link their hands together and Spock pulled back, shaking his head slightly. Spock carefully unlinked their fingers and folded Jim’s pinky, thumb, and ring finger down. Then, with his hand Spock made the same gesture, shivering as his control dwindled whilst he pressed fingers to Jim’s; recapturing his mouth in the process. _5 seconds,_ Spock thought. The door hissed open, forcing the two apart immediately as they made their way to Jim’s room. Spock had just entered the room and started removing his shirt when Jim was upon him, like an animal. Two could play this game.

 

Spock tossed his commanding officer onto his bed, irritated at his lack of undress he tore the yellow-gold fabric from Jim’s body, earning a surprised moan in the process. Kirk thrashed on the bed, tugging his pants and regulation briefs off haphazardly as his erection smacked sloppily on his lower abdomen.

 

“Spock. Spock, I wanna see you. Take those off.” Jim whined, wrapping a hand around his... _cock,_ Spock allowed himself to think.

 

Now it was Spock’s turn to tease, though.

 

“Is that an order, _Captain_?” He challenged, his hands dancing down his shirt, rubbing the growing erection at his crotch.

 

_Fuck, Spock take those off right now. I want you in me, I want to be mated, bred, claimed, yours._

 

Spock made a vague whimpering noise as he hastily divulged himself of his clothing, gasping when his engorged, exposed phallus sprung free.

 

“Where did you learn of this? How do you know--”

 

Jim cut him off with a particularly filthy groan as he started pumping his hand over his dick. His eyes were still devilishly focused on Spock. The Vulcan pushed forward, tugging Jim’s hand away, and replacing it with his mouth, sucking the eager cock down. Spock’s mind was not nearly as clear as he had hoped it to be, what with this Human somehow knowing all of his species-specific weaknesses. Suddenly pulling off Kirk’s dick, Spock made intense eye contact.

 

“You’ve been studying this.”

 

“ _You’ve_ been studying _me._ ” Kirk retaliated, “Don’t worry, Spock, I’m not offended...ah...I’m more flattered...please keep…”

 

Spock instead took his time working his way up his mate’s body, licking and sucking every inch of skin he could find. Marking. _Claiming._

 

“ _Mine. Mine. Mine._ ” He was chanting over Jim’s shuddering body, feeling but doing nothing about the erection grinding into him as he did so.

 

“Fuck. Spock...you know I’m not gonna last long with you doing--that. Ah. I’ve been like this all day, Spock, last night--last night, I h-” Jim’s stuttered speech broke as Spock reached his neck, biting and sucking until the Human’s flesh bruised and reddened under his mouth. He continued this over his Human’s chest, his thigh, prioritizing his Captain as always. “Last night, I heard you call my name in my mind. God, you sounded to wrecked...It’s--been--ah, repeating in my head all day...whenever--mmh--I tried to distract myself it was back and all I could think about was...you--in-in your room, ah, jerking off to me.”

 

“Jim, _ashayam_ , I am prepared to enter you. Where is your lubricant?” Spock groaned, as he needily rutted against Jim’s rear.

 

Kirk huffed, irritably, and reached to the hidden compartment on the wall next to his bed, seizing the small bottle concealed behind a suspiciously Vulcan-shaped phallic sex-toy. The sight lit a deeper flame in Spock, as he licked his lips and trailed his fingers over his mate, the psionic pleasure adding to his building orgasm.

 

Kirk handed Spock the lubricant, and the Vulcan squeezed a generous dose onto his fingers, slowly inserting one, then two. The feedback was immediate: warmth enveloped his fingers and his erection pulsed threateningly. He would have to hurry. Spock kissed and sucked Jim’s inner thighs as his fingers curled and scissored him open, leaving the man a writhing mess on the sheets.

 

“C’mon Spock--I’m--Spock I’m ready!” Came the grumbled reply from above him.

 

“I will tell you when you are ready.” Spock replied, a groan cutting off further thoughts as his fingers exited.

 

Spock once more squeezed lubricant onto his hand, this time wrapping it around his penis, shuddering at the feeling. He almost lost himself until he heard the keening noise from his mate, as Kirk, the famed Starship Captain, touched himself to Spock’s masturbation, his body open and prepared for Spock.

 

With a sudden grunt, Spock sank down and pressed himself into Jim, watching his penis sheath itself in the pliant Human beneath him. He attempted to start slow, but he could already feel his remaining control slipping as his mind went to a more archaic place. Jim could tell, and encouraged it. Moaning in an undignified manner as he was filled and stretched.

 

_Spock, come on, lose yourself, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m ready. Fuck me, I know you want to, I see how you look at me, I know how you want me to be yours. I’m yours, yours. Cum in me, fill me up, and mark me, everyone will know I’m yours and no-one else’s, they won’t dare touch your property._

 

The control was gone, along with the calculating Vulcan mind of the Surak era. Spock growled and grunted, roughly fucking and filling his mate with his penis, the slap of their bodies and the breathless grunts filling the room. Faster, faster, faster. Kirk’s pulse was racing, and his body was contracting, getting stiffer around Spock.

 

_Yes, cum for me._

 

A feral groan escaped Spock’s lips as his orgasm overtook him, and he twitched and spilled his release into Jim, who in turn climaxed with a shout, his semen squirting and dripping all over his stomach. Spock animalistically pulled out and finished his last pumps over Jim’s semen, pleasantly watching as his mate loosened and happily smeared Spock’s semen over himself.

 

“Spock.”

 

“Yes, Jim?”

 

“I’m in love with you.”

 

Spock almost smiled.


	2. McCoy the love Doctor (Intervention)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy confronts Kirk and Spock about their feelings. Most of this is McCoy's POV but it switches between his and Kirk's POV.
> 
> This chapter is probably Teen for like some light cussing, but there's no smut. It's mostly angsty love. Kirk gets really sappy and sentimental.

“Dismissed.” Kirk called with his signature smile at his senior officers. He remained seated, contemplative. Their mission had dredged something up in him. Something he’d prefer not to think about.

 

Kirk was lost in his thoughts, he pulled a hand over his face, squeezing. He dropped it like hot coals when he remembered _meld points_ and nearly groaned in frustration. _I can’t even_ sulk _without thinking about him._

 

“Jim. I think we should have a talk, now.”

 

“Bones, get out of here. Don’t you have patients to tend to?”

 

McCoy dropped into the seat next to Kirk, unrelenting. His eyebrows drawn and lips pursed in concern. He took a deep breath and pulled out a flask.

 

“Hey, where’d you get that? Been planning an ambush on your Captain, Doctor?” Kirk’s voice was coated in faux-amusement but the Doctor knew better. He twisted the cap off the flask and offered it to Kirk.

 

“I figured you were gonna need somethin’ to get you to talk. Jim, we need to talk about this. I think it might be killing you and, as your doctor, I prescribe a nice friendly chat.”

 

“How thoughtful.” Kirk took a swig and grimaced, “What _is_ this?”

 

“You’re not getting out of this one. You _will_ talk to me.” McCoy had his hand on Kirk’s shoulder, gripping him.

 

“Talk about what, Bones? What is there to talk about? I have a responsibility to this ship, to her crew, I can’t just--”

 

“Damnit, Jim, you _will_ talk to me about Spock!”

 

Kirk didn’t even flinch. He was a well-trained officer of Starfleet, a captain of a ship. He knew when to bluff. “What about him? You two having another little one of your arguments?” He pasted on a smile.

 

“Do I have to restrain you and sedate you and drag the confession out of your lips? ‘Cause I will. You’re terrified. You can’t bullshit me, Jim, I’m your friend and personal physician and I have a right to know your genuine feelings. I need to know professionally, and personally how you’re doin’ or else I’ll have to claim you unfit for duty. This is serious, Jim. I’ve never seen you this bad.”

 

The words hung in the air thickly, when Kirk took a deep breath McCoy knew he’d won. He let his hand slip off his friend’s shoulder. Kirk’s face crumpled and he seemed to gasp a bit. This was all medically explainable and McCoy knew that Jim’s emotional stress was finally getting relieved somewhat. God, how Spock must feel.

 

“Leonard, I don’t...I don’t know what to do. I’m supposed to be in control all the time, I have the ship to take care of, I have the crew to think about. I can’t let this get to me. I _can’t_ . It wasn’t too bad at first but now...I think I really did it, Bones. I think I really fell in love with him. And he’s not going to feel the same way--ever.” McCoy could visibly see Jim deflate with his confession, months or even years of pent up feelings finally came rushing out. And then Kirk retreated. He started building up his facade and receding into his Captaincy. _Spock’s gonna have a real competitor in this emotional repression business._

 

“Hey, Jim. Look at me.” McCoy’s hand was back, “Jim. Now, I’m not the kinda person who lies to make folks feel better, you know that. So you gotta know I’m telling the truth when I say that green-blooded idiot is completely head-over-his-Vulcan-heels for you. The way he looks at you like you’re his whole world? Jim, when he thought you were gone he couldn’t accept it. Talk to him.” McCoy had a serious smile playing on his face, and he could tell there was a little easing in Kirk’s own smile. They exchanged a nod, _message received._

 

* * *

 

 

The next person McCoy cornered was Spock. This was gonna be a little more difficult. Spock was extremely closed off to him and really only opened up for Kirk. The only way McCoy knew how to get under Spock’s skin was with irritation, anything to elicit an emotion. His chance came when Spock came in to help him with some samples for medical testing.

 

“Hey, uh, Spock. Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you.”

 

“What is it, Doctor? I have only 15.25 minutes before I am needed back in the Laboratory. These samples are time-sensitive and--”

 

“Spock, it’s about Jim.”

 

That seemed to shut him up. The Vulcan straightened slightly and his lips pressed together tightly. He obviously had something invested in the subject. McCoy hid his smile behind his hand, donning a more serious look. He was going to get a confession, blast it.

 

“Is there something wrong with the Captain?”

 

“No, Spock, there’s nothing wrong with him.” Spock’s brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to respond but was halted by one of the good doctor’s fingers. “Now wait just a minute, Spock. I wasn’t done talking. I know how you feel about him.”

 

Spock’s entire body solidified right in front of McCoy, and he had half a mind to administer some sort of muscle relaxant--this can’t be good for the body. Then it was over and Spock had relaxed like nothing had happened.

 

“Doctor, I fail to see the point in repeating myself, as I have since we’ve been aboard this vessel. As a Vulcan, I do not _feel_. My respect for the Captain is truly only of a professional--”

 

McCoy interrupted him, slamming his hand down on the desk. This blatant refusal to accept that McCoy knew about him more than he wanted to admit got right under his skin. He took a deep breath.

 

“Your _respect_ for Jim is only a part of how you really see him. Come on, Spock, you know this’ll stay between us as doctor-patient confidentiality. I have _eyes_... I know the look of longing and pain, even on a face as rigid and Vulcan as yours. What you feel for him scares you because you _despise_ emotional weakness, you’re ashamed at how deeply it goes.”

 

Spock was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. As McCoy had been talking, Spock had looked away, his jaw rhythmically clenching and unclenching, and McCoy wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been timing it.

 

“Dr. McCoy, I--There is no benefit in revealing anything to the Captain. If he had wanted me, he would have said so. Jim is not a hesitant man. His partners have been female, and he has flaunted them in front of me for several years. I am not in the practice of interpreting Human behavior, but those seem to be the facts, Doctor, so if you will excuse me I have--”

 

McCoy was floundering, but he managed to grab ahold of Spock’s arm. _You’re not getting away this time._

 

“Spock, one more thing before you go, and I expect you to consider and think about this: ‘Human behavior’ is extremely illogical and counterintuitive most times. _Humans_ often do really silly things, like parade beautiful women in front of people they harbor feelings for to gauge their reactions. Of course, I don’t see how he expected it to work with _you_ , you’ve spent your whole god-damn life learning to hide how you feel, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try. Also: Human sexuality isn’t as black-and-white as you think, Spock, trust me.”

 

Spock seemed to consider his words, before raising an eyebrow and breezing out of the room.

 

 _Got him._ McCoy thought. Now all he had to do was wait for those two idiots to talk.

 

It took a week.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mr. Spock to my quarters, please.” Kirk was freshly showered, dressed in the finest thing he could find in the costume lab, and bursting with nervousness. His heart pounded louder and louder as he waited for his unsuspecting First Officer to get to him.

 

Kirk was plotting McCoy’s murder for putting this whole idea into his head when there was an unnecessary knock on the door. Kirk could feel himself melt, even after something so simple, so _Spock_. The Vulcan was the only one who knocked, even though there was no need. Kirk straightened his shirt.

 

“Enter.”

 

The door swished open, and in stepped Spock. It nearly took his breath away, and he chuckled out loud at his sappiness. Spock was in his quarters. It wasn’t new--Spock had been here many many times--but now Kirk swallowed the tightness in his throat. If this went southward...this would be the last time he would see Spock. He’d transfer off the _Enterprise_. He’d shut himself off from Kirk forever.

 

“Captain?”

 

“Spock, I need some advice.”

 

“As second in command it is my duty to-”

 

“Spock. What do I do?” Kirk was at a loss, he walked closer to Spock, his arms reaching out and placing themselves on his friend’s shoulders.

 

“Do? About what, Captain?” It couldn’t be Kirk’s imagination playing tricks on him when he saw the dark eyes of the Vulcan flicker down to his lips. It couldn’t be his imagination that Spock was relaxing under his hands, his lips parting in a silent sigh.

 

“I’m going to kiss you now, Mr. Spock. Please...stop me if you feel the need to.” And with that, he went in for it.

 

Kirk’s hands came up to cup Spock’s cheeks and he pulled him down slightly, fitting his lips upon those he had been watching for a long time. Kirk gasped at the emotion overwhelming him, sighing into Spock’s sealed lips. Kirk pulled back gently and he was on the tip of his toes. This was his most vulnerable--he had laid bare his secrets to the one person he cared the most about being judged by. Kirk searched the Vulcan’s eyes, trying to find anything to go on. He locked up, releasing Spock, and started to turn away as his heart twinged in his chest.

 

He needed to be alone. Spock needed to go. He couldn’t stand to see the emotionless stare, the disgust he knew Spock had to be feeling at his emotional display, at his feelings. Kirk found his voice, “Get out.” It choked him.

 

“Captain, I--”

 

“ _Spock._ ” He thrust all his feelings into it, emphasizing and breaking the name in his mouth.

 

A strong hand on his shoulder caused him to flinch, and he was almost afraid to turn.

 

“ _Jim_.” Spock twirled Kirk around and leaned in, brushing his nose to Kirk’s cheek as he pressed their mouths together. Jim almost cried into the kiss, all of his feelings of insecurity, guilt, shame, pain, were gone. In this moment, he was whole.

 

They pulled apart after several moments, and the nod that passed between them surpassed the barriers of species as Kirk rested his hand on Spock’s face, tenderly sweeping his thumb down the curves of his lover’s cheekbone. They didn’t have to speak, they knew that they completed each other.


	3. Amok Time from Spock's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter will probably be pretty boring, It took me forever to write, but a lot of it is directly in the episode itself, I just added some thoughts to it from Spock and there may or may not be some frottage during the Kali-farr?
> 
> I'll probably edit it as I go around but yes. Other than that it's less smut and more. Well, there is some dirty thoughts and smut. But like no one orgasms or anything. Just Spock when he sees Kirk's alive---oops!

It was starting. Spock could tell despite this being his very first experience with the old drives. His body temperature was 3 degrees higher than normal, his control on his body waned, and his emotions were forcing themselves to the surface; humiliating him even further though he knew it was nothing he could control. This was why, when the ever-irritating Doctor had approached him for his routine physical, he had responded in an undignified manner.

 

“You will cease to pry into my personal matters, or I shall certainly break your neck.” Spock had cautioned. This was a deeply personal matter and if the CMO had checked his vitals there would be no doubt a conversation would have to take place. No, Spock must attempt this alone.

 

McCoy had looked at him, shocked. How typically emotional of him, Spock thought as he fled to his quarters, barring himself in. He was burning. He needed to control himself, but the Humans aboard would not understand. They would take the matter lightly--much too lightly--if he had no choice but to disclose his motivations. Spock had been ruminating over these concerns when a concerned Ms. Chapel had come into his room, bearing gifts and practically shoving her concern down the Vulcan’s throat.  _ Why  _ did she not  _ cease  _ in her attempts to court him? Did she not realize he was not interested?

 

“What is this?!” Spock yelled, smacking the Plomeek soup from her hands, irrationally satisfied at the clatter it made on the wall. “Don’t keep prying, If I want anything from you, I’ll ask for it!” He chased her out of his personal space, stopping suddenly when he saw the Captain standing in the hallway. He inhaled and attempted to compose himself, but couldn’t manage enough to keep his voice steady for long.

 

“Captain, I should like to request a leave of absence, on my home planet. On our present course, you can divert to Vulcan with a loss of but 2.8 light days.” His voice had wavered toward the end, and Kirk stepped forward, ever concerned. As the man got closer Spock’s control was diminishing fast.

 

“Spock, what the devil is this all about?” Spock heard nothing but concern in his friend’s voice.

 

“I have made my request, Captain, all I require from you is that you answer it: yes or no?” Spock practically snarled his last words, and upon noticing Kirk’s expression further deepening, he could tell he wouldn’t last long in close proximity. Standing straight for a moment, Spock watched Kirk, then stepped back, closing his door.

 

The Captain didn’t stay away for long, interrupting Spock as he attempted to distract himself with calculations on his PADD. He stood, hands clasped behind his back as Kirk entered.

 

“All right, Spock, let’s have it.”

 

“It is undignified for a woman to play servant to a man who is not hers,” Spock weakly attempted to distract the Captain, “I did not--”

 

Kirk was persistent. “I’m more interested in your request for shore leave. In all the years that I’ve known--”

 

“You have my request, Captain!” Spock yelled, “will you grant it, or not?”

 

Kirk paused, enunciating, determined to work his way down to Spock’s problem. “In all the years that I’ve known you, you’ve never asked for a leave of any sort. In fact, you’ve refused them. Why now?” Spock attempted to calm himself, his whole body on alert: he could smell Kirk so close.

 

“Captain, surely I have enough leave time accumulated.”

 

“Agreed. But that isn’t the question, is it?” Kirk was getting angry, now. No longer trusting himself to stand, Spock sat, gaze fixed anywhere but the man steadily approaching him.”If there’s a problem of some sort-- an illness in the family--”

 

“No, nothing of that nature, Captain.” 

 

“Then, since we’re headed for Altair Six, and since the shore facilities there are excellent--” Spock knew this was a ploy to get him to reveal himself, but he needed Vulcan, and the Captain had to understand.

 

“No!” He called, standing, “I must--!” Kirk looked at him, face scrutinizing, and Spock used all his remaining control to temper down his body’s excitement, unable to hold back a falter in his composure as he finally made eye contact with Kirk. A hand slipped behind his back, and he channeled all of his control into maintaining full-body rigidity. “I wish to take my leave on Vulcan.”

 

Kirk approached slowly from the door, his eyes scanning Spock, and the Vulcan tried to focus on anything but the closeness of his friend. His innocent friend. He knew nothing of this time and how difficult it was not to take what he wanted finally. His hand behind his back had started shaking, increasingly fast as the man of his affection closed in on him.

 

“Spock, I’m  _ asking _ you, what’s wrong?” Jim had no way of knowing, he couldn’t be told.

 

“I need…”  _ You, _ Spock thought, his free hand now gripping his shaking hand behind his back, “Rest.” He said, “I’m asking  _ you _ to accept that answer.”

 

Kirk nodded and brushed past Spock, clicking the switch to connect him to the bridge. Spock rocked forward on his heels, gripping his shaking hand with most of his strength.

 

“Bridge. Helm.” Spock could sense Kirk watching him, and the shaking worsened as he fought off all of his animalistic urges. To  _ take  _ his Captain. Bent over his monitor.

 

“Yes, Captain?” Sulu’s voice rang out.

 

“Alter course to Vulcan, increase speed to warp four.”

 

“Aye, sir.”

 

Kirk made his way to the door again.

 

“Thank you, Captain.” Spock called, watching Jim’s expression soften into some form of affection as he looked Spock up and down.

 

“I suppose most of us overlook the fact that even Vulcans aren’t indestructible.” He smiled, and with that he was gone, looking briefly over his shoulder at Spock who raised an eyebrow in return.

 

“No.” Spock called, to the empty doorway, walking over to face away from where the Captain had just been, his hand shaking again as he gripped it, “We’re not.”

 

* * *

 

 

Spock was hunched over his station on the bridge, after having meditated for some time he had regained enough of himself to function, albeit less accurately than usual. He could hear Kirk walking around the bridge, parading like a peacock. Waiting for his mate to prove himself in front of his dearest friends, over the same floor where Kirk had kissed and joined hands with so many women, proving Spock superior. Spock mentally stomped these thoughts out. He heard Lt. Uhura call for the Captain, and he strained himself.

 

“Captain, something’s coming in on the Starfleet channel. Priority on urgent, sir.”

 

“Put it on audio over here, Lieutenant.”

 

“Message complete, sir. Switching over.”

 

Starfleet’s voice rang out, and Spock turned his head toward the sound, “To Captain, U.S.S.  _ Enterprise _ , from Starfleet sector nine-- inauguration ceremonies have been advanced seven solar days. You are ordered to alter your flight plan as filed to accommodate, by order of Komack, Admiral, Starfleet command. Acknowledge.” 

 

Spock looked toward the ground as Kirk ordered Lt. Uhura to acknowledge the command, and Mr. Chekov to compute course and speed necessary for compliance.

 

“We’ll have to head directly there at, eh, varp six, sir. Insufficient time to stop off at Wulcan.”

 

“Head directly for Altair Six.” Kirk called, Spock noticed him approaching, and straightened up. “Sailor’s luck, Mr. Spock, or as one of Finagle’s Laws puts it--’any home port the ship makes, will be somebody else’s, not mine.’ The new President of Altair six wants to get himself launched a week early,” Kirk tilted his head, teasingly, “So we have to be there a week early.” Spock attempted to compose himself as the burning returned full force. “Don’t worry. I’ll see that you get your leave...as soon as we’re finished.”

 

Spock, unable to tolerate the emotional stress, had gone into a trance-like state, not dissimilar to the healing trance Vulcans underwent when they needed to recuperate, “I...quite understand, Captain.”

 

* * *

 

“Mr. Spock.”

 

Spock snapped out of his trance, turning to face the Captain who had appeared in the doorway of the turbolift, hands on hips.

 

“Come with me, please.”

 

Once they were in the lift, Kirk gripped the handle and called for Deck five. Spock was rapidly losing control in such a small space, his breathing labored. The burning was strong.

 

“You changed the course for Vulcan, Mr. Spock, why?”

 

“Changed the course?” Spock managed, forcing it out.

 

“Do you deny it?”

 

“No. No, by no means, Captain. It is quite possible.”

 

“Then why did you do it?”

 

“Captain, I a-accept on your word, that I did it, but I do not know why, nor do I re-remember doing it.” Spock answered honestly, slightly confused himself but convinced it was not far from the realm of possibility. Spock was losing it, very fast, unable to make it sentences without stuttering, pushed by his desire and closeness to his friend who did not understand. Spock could not, refused to hurt his poor Captain, as he knew he was fully capable of doing without realizing it until it was too late and the Captain would never speak to him again when he saw what was laying behind his calm veneer, the hungry beast that ached for his friend. He turned. “Captain, lock me away. I do not wish to be seen. I c-cannot, no Vulcan could, explain further.”

 

“I’m trying to help you, Spock.” 

 

Spock snapped, Kirk did not know what that meant. What ‘helping’ him required, and he could not force him into something as this. “Ask me no further questions, I will not answer.” 

 

Kirk looked at him, steeling himself over. “I order you to report to the sick bay.”

 

“Sick bay?” His voice came out as a whisper.

 

“Complete examination, McCoy’s waiting.”

 

The doors opened, and Spock took one last lost look at Kirk, before they closed. An order. He had an order. Sickbay. He walked automatically, almost getting lost on his way there. 

 

When he entered, McCoy was waiting, “Oh, come in, Spock, I’m all ready for you.”

 

“My orders were to report to sick bay, Doctor. I have done so. And now, I’ll go to my quarters.”

 

McCoy intercepted him. “My orders were to give you a thorough physical.In case you hadn’t noticed, I have to report to the same commanding officer that you do.” McCoy placed a hand on his arm, “Come on, Spock, yield to the logic of the situation.”

 

“Very well, Doctor.” Spock said, leaning back on the examination table, “Examine me. For all the good it will do either of us.” As they leaned him back in the table, his fingers tapped impatiently on the edge of the bed. They would find his system overworking itself, they would know his physical signs, but they would not know the cause. And he would not tell them. No one could know if this time, not even doctors.

 

* * *

 

Spock had returned to his quarters, an image of T’Pring on his monitor. He was not anticipating this reunion with her, but this was the only image he had, from when they were bonded at seven at the insistence of his father and the high council. At the time Spock had not understood much beyond that it was a ceremony in which he had to take place to “fit in” as a Vulcan. Now it was a burden to him. He had not wanted a wife, someone he had no real connection to, but the rules were absolute. He was to be betrothed.

 

The buzzer to his door sounded, and he switched off the monitor.

 

“Come.” He called softly, then attempted to stand when he saw his Captain enter.

 

“Stay.” Kirk ordered, holding out a hand, and Spock settled back down into his chair. He was once more holding a stylus. He stared down at his hands as the Captain leaned in and spoke, “McCoy has given me his medical evaluation of your condition, he says you’re going to die unless something is done. What?”

 

Spock had looked up at the mention of death, and then returned his gaze to his hands, realizing they were shaking again. Emotions were bubbling up in him once more. Affection for his friend, desire, followed quickly by shame. He could not tell Jim about this, surely he would understand the need for Vulcan privacy.

 

“Is it something only your planet can do for you?” Spock reached over to place his stylus down, determined to ignore his Captain, but Jim grabbed his wrist with a forceful “Spock!” And the shaking worsened. Spock could feel the pain this was causing Kirk, his concern, his love for his friend. Spock adamantly severed the desire to reassure the Captain he was well by providing a demonstration of his physical concerns. Spock ripped his harm from Kirk’s grasp.

 

“You’ve been called the best first officer in the ‘Fleet.” Spock forced his eyes shut, using the sound of Kirk’s voice to calm himself, “That’s an enormous asset to me. If I have to lose that first officer I want to know why.” Spock realized that Kirk was not going to relent in his questioning, and he decided the only logical course of action to take would be to reveal himself. But he couldn’t do it standing so near to Kirk. He stood, anxiously wringing his hands, and walked a few feet away, distancing himself from the man his body was telling him to be closer to.

 

“It is a thing no outworlder may know,” He started, willing his voice to stay steady,”Except those very few who have been involved.” He paused, realizing that he had just involved an outworlder himself, “A Vulcan understands, but even we do not...speak of it among ourselves. It is a deeply personal thing. Can you see that, Captain, and understand?” Spock tried once more, knowing that if this failed he would be forced to tell his Captain about the fever undertaking him. He was vulnerable in this moment, entirely too vulnerable.

 

“No I do not understand. Explain. Consider that an order.” Spock tensed.

 

“Captain, there are some things which transcend even the discipline of the service.” He could hear the humiliation and tension in his voice, and found it extremely distasteful to be so revealing.

 

Kirk inhaled, then walked over to Spock, mirroring his posture, “Would it help if I told you that I’ll treat this as totally confidential?” 

 

Spock took in Kirk’s posture, his expression, he knew that the man was being completely honest; it radiated off of him in waves that even a non-telepath could sense. But he was still too close. Too open, vulnerable. He turned his back, walking once more from Kirk.

 

“It has to do with…” His voice was wavering again, as another shock of heat enveloped him, a combination of humiliation and arousal, “...Biology.”

 

“What?” Kirk called from behind him, and Spock rolled his eyes at the incredibly unperceptive nature his usually extremely intelligent and perceptive Captain possessed. 

 

“Biology.” He forced, louder. He was not going to say what Kirk wanted to hear, the complete truth. He was going to refer to it as vaguely as possible and attempt his tone would hit a cord in his Captain. 

 

Kirk moved from where he had been standing previously, to once again mirror Spock. A type of anxiety in his voice as he quietly asked, “What...kind of biology?”

 

“ _ Vulcan _ biology.” Spock enunciated, irritated. Why was his friend making him say it?  _ Does he want to hear it? _ A small voice asked in his brain. He ignored it.

 

“You mean the biology  _ of  _ Vulcans?” Spock could feel Kirk’s curious and tense gaze on him, “Biology as in...reproduction?” Spock could only nod, looking down.

 

“Well, uh...there’s no need to be embarrassed about it, Mr. Spock. It happens to the birds and the bees.” His tone was too teasing and light, just as expected from Humans.

 

“The  _ birds _ and the  _ bees _ are not  _ Vulcans _ , Captain.” He turned on his heel, once more hiding, “If they were…” He turned back to watch his Captain, “If any creature as proudly logical as us were to have their logic  _ ripped _ from them as this time does to us…” He sighed, crossing his arms.”How do Vulcans choose their mates? Haven’t you wondered?”

 

Kirk paused. “I...guess the rest of us assume that it’s done...quite logically.”

 

“No.” Spock murmured, taking his seat again. “No. It is not. We shield it with ritual, and customs shrouded in antiquity.” He huffed out a breath of air which could be considered a laugh, “You Humans have no conception. It strips our minds from us. Brings a madness which rips away our veneer of c-civilization. It is the  _ Pon Farr _ : the time of mating.”

 

Kirk slowly took a seat across from Spock, clearly stressed, he seemed about to speak but Spock cut him off, once he had started talking he seemed unable to stop. “There are precedents in nature, Captain. The giant eel birds of Regulus five. Once each eleven years they must return to the caverns where they hatched. On your Earth, the salmon, they must return to that one stream where they were born...to spawn...or die in trying.”

 

“But you’re not a fish, Mr. Spock, you’re--”

 

“No. Nor am I a man.” He paused, collecting himself, “I’m a Vulcan. I’d hoped I would be spared this, but the ancient drives are too strong. Eventually they catch up with us, and we are driven by forces we cannot control to return home…and take a wife...or die.”

 

Kirk stood, walking around the table; erasing the facade of professionalism as he stepped into Spock’s personal space. “I haven’t hear a word you’ve said...and...I’ll get you to Vulcan. Somehow.” He left, speeding through the doors, and as Spock looked up after him, he wondered both how the Captain would do that, and why he had left so suddenly.

 

* * *

 

 

Spock was in his room, tuning and playing his lute, when his intercom whistled.

 

“Communication to Mr. Spock, Lieutenant Uhura here: Captain asked me to--”

 

“Leave me alone..let me alone!” He bellowed, crushing his monitor with his balled fist.

 

He returned to his lute, his anger forgotten. But instead of playing, he moved it aside, and fell into a light sleep. This would calm his nerves, put him into a more restful state, he believed. It did little to quell his emotions. He had only been asleep for a few minutes, when his door hissed open, the strong emotional turmoil accompanied the Nurse as she entered. Spock was familiar with her feelings, he could sense them quite clearly whenever she was in his presence. As she turned to leave, he made a decision.

 

“Ms. Chapel.” He called, turning to sit on the corner of his bed.

 

“Yes, Mr. Spock?” Hopeful. Always so hopeful.

 

“I had a most startling dream.” He started, carefully acknowledging her feelings for him as a tear slipped down her cheek, “You were trying to tell me something. But I couldn’t hear you.” He stood, holding a hand out to stop her from attempting to help him. “It would be illogical for us to protest against our natures. Don’t you think?” His double meaning was obvious.

 

“I don’t understand.” Ms. Chapel lied, still hopeful, but obviously in pain.

 

Spock reached out with a steady hand, gently wiping at her tear. “Your face is wet.” He observed, reminding her that she could not lie to him.

 

“I came to tell you that we are bound for Vulcan. We’ll be there in just a few days.” She attempted to smile.

 

“Vulcan.” Spock said, watching as Ms. Chapel started to leave, “Ms. Chapel.”

 

“My name is Christine.”

 

“Yes, I know, Christine. Would you make me some of that Plomeek soup?”

“Oh, I’d be very glad to do that, Mr. Spock.” Christine called, smiling as she left.

 

Vulcan, Spock thought.

 

* * *

 

 

Spock, Kirk, and McCoy stepped into the turbolift, headed for the bridge to receive a call from Vulcan. As the lift hummed, Spock turned to McCoy.

 

“It is obvious that you have surmised my problem, Doctor, my compliments on your insight.” His voice did not appear to hold any such compliments, “Captain, there is a thing that happens to Vulcans at this time,” He made eye contact with Kirk, looking away quickly as he felt the hot gaze idle on his body, “Almost an insanity, which you would no doubt find distasteful.”

 

“Will I?” Kirk smiled, so innocent, so unknowing, “You’ve been most patient with my kinds of madness.”

 

Spock paused, finally deciding. He would rather have Kirk with him on Vulcan, even if he were to witness Spock’s marriage, or more. This way he could keep his friend close to him, and also push out the illogical sensations he had been getting around the Captain for some time. Sensations which the Pon Farr was only exacerbating. 

 

“Then...would you like to beam down to the planet’s surface and stand with me? There is a brief ceremony.” Spock noticed the look on his Captain’s face, a mixture of adoration and sadness.

 

“Is it permitted?”

 

“It is my right. My tradition, the male is accompanied by his closest friends.” Kirk’s eyes wandered away from him, his gaze still that mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Thank you, Mr. Spock.”

 

As the doors to the turbolift swished open. Spock turned to McCoy, nearly an afterthought, but he would prefer more friends with him than without him, and he acknowledged McCoy as a friend despite their differences.

 

“I...also request McCoy accompany me.”

 

McCoy seemed shocked, “I shall be honored, sir.”

 

“Captain,” Uhura called, “We’re standing by on Vulcan hailing frequencies, sir.”

 

“Open a channel, Lieutenant.” Kirk ordered, then louder spoke directly to the Vulcans, “Vulcan Space Central, this is the _U.S.S._ _Enterprise_ , requesting permission to assume standard orbit.”

 

“ _ U.S.S. Enterprise _ from Vulcan Space Central--permission granted, and from all of Vulcan, welcome. Is commander Spock with you?”

 

“This is Spock.”

 

“Stand by to activate your central viewer, please.”

 

The lift doors opened and Ms. Chapel came in, handing Dr. McCoy his medkit. “Doctor, what’s going on?”

 

He shushed her.

 

The emotionless visage of T’Pring, is wife to be, filled the central viewer screen. She was beautiful and radiant as was expected, but she did not bring forth any sense of emotion or belonging in the Vulcan Science officer.

 

“Spock,” She spoke, “It is I.”

 

“T’Pring,” Spock responded, the beck and call of the ritual must be completed, “Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. We meet, at the appointed place.”

 

“Spock,” T’Pring returned, “Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched. I await you.”

 

“She’s lovely, Mr. Spock,” Uhura breathed, “Who is she?”

 

“She is T’Pring. My wife.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

The three men beamed down to Vulcan, the hot sun and dry air surrounding them. Spock guided them to the arena, the shining sand glittering with their movement.

 

“This is the land of my family. It has been held by us for more than 2,000 Earth years. This is our place of Koon-ut-kali-fee.” Spock stepped forward, tuning out his friends as he moved toward the gong in the center of the arena, chiming it once.

 

The sound of the bells was not far off, and Spock could hear the footsteps of several Vulcans as they made their way toward them. Spock approached Kirk and McCoy.

 

“The marriage part approaches. I hear them.”

“Marriage party?” Kirk’s face looked strangely happy, even...hopeful, Spock ignored the illogical thought, “You said T’Pring was your wife.”

 

“By our patents’ arrangement...a ceremony...while we were but seven years of age. Less than a marriage, but more than a betrothal.” Kirk seemed curious, so Spock continued, “One touches the other, in order to feel each other’s thoughts. In this way, our minds were locked together so that, at the proper time, we would both be drawn to… Koon-ut-kali-fee.”

 

The bells were louder now, and Spock chimed the gong once more as the marriage party marched in; a line of Vulcans carrying bells, and T’Pau, on her throne. Followed by T’Pring, and the rest of the party, carrying the Lirpa and the Ahn-woon. As the two Vulcans carrying T’Pau set her throne down, Spock approached, holding the ta’al to her, and kneeling to her as was custom. 

 

T’Pau silently melded with him, and he allowed her access to his mind; he must. She waited a moment, then broke the meld. “Spock,” She spoke softly in her thick Vulcan accent, “Are our ceremonies for outworlders?”

 

“They are not outworlders, they are my friends. I am permitted this.”

 

T’Pau raised her hand, a gesture for the friends to step over, and Spock swallowed down pride at how well his Captain was put together under the strange circumstances. Another bout of illogic as he saw Kirk in his place of Koon-ut-kali-fee.

 

“This is Kirk.” Spock said simply as Kirk moved to stand close to Spock.

 

Kirk inclined his head politely, “Ma’am.”

 

T’Pau watched him, squinting slightly. “And thee are called?” She asked, turning to McCoy.

 

“Leonard McCoy, Ma’am.” The Doctor said with a smile.

 

T’Pau turned to Spock. “Thee names these outworlders friends. How does thee pledge their behavior?”

 

Spock did not hesitate in his response, “With my life, T’Pau.”

 

“What they are about to see comes down from the time of the beginning… without change. This is the Vulcan Heart. This is the Vulcan Soul. This is our way.” She paused, then raised her arm, “Kali-farr!” The Vulcan’s who held the bells started shaking them, and Spock was entranced, slipping deeper into his fever as he naturally approached the gong. As he raised the mallet, T’Pring approached, holding her hand out.

 

“Kali-fee!” Everything stopped. Shaken, Spock started walking toward the only other mate he had wanted, Kirk realizing his approach with surprise; not realizing fully what he had meant. One of the guards suddenly stood in between Spock and Kirk, and Spock gaped at Kirk in silence. Rejected for the second time, Spock’s blood burned the brightest through his veins, lighting him on fire. He dropped the mallet and stood by a wall, deep in thought. He could hear his confused Captain, but even as the man spoke, Spock could feel his fever peak. He was lost in his mind.

 

He heard his name being called, but could not make out much else. Spock had to fight, by custom, it was arranged. He was to fight.

 

“Spock. Does thee accept challenge according to our laws and customs?” It was T’Pau, her voice was clear to him as she had melded with him earlier. He nodded once, which was acceptable as a response.

 

“T’Pring, thee will choose thy champion.” Spock could hear a pause, and through the blur of the Plak Tow he watched as T’Pring made her way down the path, pausing at an unfamiliar Vulcan, and then pointing at Kirk.

 

_ No _ , Spock’s mind called out.  _ Not him. _ He does not understand. Spock’s fear tugged at him, as he approached T’Pau.

 

“T’Pau…” Spock whispered, forcing himself through the fever.

 

“Thee  _ speaks _ ?” T’Pau was surprised.

 

“My friend...does not understand…” Spock was all but whining, the fever ravaging him.

 

“The choice has been made, Spock. It is up to him now.”

 

“He does not...know. I will do...what I must...T’Pau. But not with him! His blood...does not burn...he is my friend!” Kirk did not know he was required to kill, did not know he would soon have no control over his actions.

 

“It is said...they Vulcan blood is thin. Are thee Vulcan? Or are thee  _ Human _ ?” T’Pau spat.

 

“I  _ burn _ ...T’Pau. My eyes...are  _ flame _ . My heart...is  _ flame _ . Thee has the power, T’Pau. In the name...of my fathers, forbid.  _ Forbid _ !” Spock was losing his last ounce of strength, this was his last attempt. “T’Pau...I plead...with the. I beg!”

 

“Thee has prided thyself on they Vulcan heritage. It is decided.”

 

Spock could feel the guard wrap the sash around his waist, and he stepped forward, decided. He was gone. The beast revealed itself in his form as he gripped the Lirpa he was handed, eyes on Kirk. Instinctively he went into combat, swiping the blade and tearing Kirk’s shirt open, exposing his chest; a thin line of blood ran across and Spock eyed it hungrily. It was his, he must kill this one, it was his prize. He dashed at Kirk more, every swipe and sign of fear in his prey’s eyes alighted something deep within him as his blood pumped and he hardened in his pants.

 

Spock cornered his prey, delivering a crushing blow, but Kirk dodged, and the gong smashed instead. Distracted by the sound, Kirk made his move, butting Spock in the stomach and chasing after him until he had him trapped under the Lirpa. Kirk held him down, his eyes searching Spock’s, and Spock thrust him off, stabbing at the air as Kirk dodged, and finally after being flipped over, Spock had gotten Kirk to the ground, raising his weapon.

 

A yell sounded out somewhere, but Spock ignored it, and stuck the Lirpa down...into the ground next to Kirk’s head. This one was quick.Kirk kicked him back, and he stumbled, moving to a ready position.

 

“Kroykah!”

 

Spock halted, still glaring down at his prize. There was talk, he ignored it and stood still even as another challenger approached his prize, and muttered something to him, placing something on his arm. Kroykah had been called, he was not to move. His heart thudded in his side as he waited.

 

“The Ahn-woon!” 

 

He was handed his Ahn-woon, and slung it around, watching it twirl around his challenger’s feet, tripping him. He was  _ his _ . Kirk stood, and flipped him away, but Spock was back, pressing the strip of fabric to Kirk’s throat as he thrashed around underneath the Vulcan, Spock could feel a similar hardness in his challenger’s pants.  _ Yes _ , Spock thought, panting as his challenger rolled them over and pressed a leg into his groin. The Vulcan would not be had, and he choked the man atop him, rubbing and grinding, pounding on Spock’s chest, his rear in Spock’s lap, pressing, writhing, moving. Spock pulled him up to the coal pit, and choked Kirk, as Kirk’s leg pressed against his back. Kirk pushed them back, and Spock fell, maintaining his grip on the Ahn-Woon around Kirk’s neck. Kirk choked and struggled, the last of his breaths coming out. Spock stood over him, holding his victory by the neck--

 

“Kroykah!”

 

Spock stopped. The fever was gone, and he was horrified. His friend’s lifeless body hung underneath him, and he was stunned still. Horror, grief, pain all pulled at him. He had killed his friend, his Captain.

 

“Get your hands off of him, Spock!” McCoy hissed, as he reached for the Captain’s body. Spock stood back, watching, as McCoy checked Kirk for life. The Doctor turned towards T’Pau. “It’s finished. He’s dead.” Spock walked away, barely holding himself together.

 

He heard  T’Pau say, “I grieve with thee.”

 

“McCoy to  _ Enterprise _ .” Spock unwrapped his sash, handing it to a guard.

 

“ _ Enterprise, _ Lieutenant Uhura here.”

 

“Have the transporter room stand by to beam up the landing party.”

 

McCoy walked over to Spock, “As strange as it may seem, Mr. Spock, you’re in command now. Any orders?”

 

Spock took a moment to compose himself, nodding. “Yes. I’ll follow you up in a few minutes. You will instruct Mr. Chekov to plot a course for the nearest starbase...where I must surrender myself to the authorities.”

 

McCoy glared at him, walking away. Spock approached T’Pring.

 

“T’Pring. Explain.”

 

“Specify.” Her voice was musical, but Spock didn’t hear it.

 

“Why the challenge? And why you chose my Captain as your champion.”

 

“Stonn wanted me. I wanted him.”

 

Spock looked from T’Pring to Stonn.

 

“I see no logic in preferring Stonn over me.”

 

“You have become much known among our people, Spock, almost a legend. And as the years went by, I came to know that I did not want to be the consort of a legend. But by the laws of our people, I could only divorce you by the Kali-fee. There was also Stonn who wanted very much to be my consort, and I wanted him. If your captain were victor, he would not want me, and so I would have Stonn. If you were victor, you would have freed me because I had dared to challenge, and again I would have Stonn. But if you did not free me, it would be the same. For you would be gone, and I would have your name and your property, and Stonn would still be there.”

 

Spock nodded. “Logical. Flawlessly logical.”

 

T’Pring looked down, “I am honored.”

 

“Stonn.” Spock called, “She is yours. After a time, you may find...that having...is not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true.” Spock opened his communicator, “Spock here. Stand by to beam up.” He made his way to T’Pau, seated on her throne once more, raising the ta’al “Live long, T’Pau, and prosper.”

 

“Live long and prosper, Spock.” She replied, holding her own ta’al.

 

Spock shook his head, “I shall do neither. I have killed my Captain..and my friend.” Spock walked to the middle of the arena, flipping open his communicator, “Energize.”

 

As soon as he was on the ship, Spock walked to sick bay.

 

“Doctor, I shall be resigning my commission immediately, of course.”

 

“Now, Spock, I--” The Doctor attempted to interrupt him, but Spock wanted to finish his statement so that he could grieve in peace.

 

“So I would appreciate your making the final arrangements.”

 

“Spock, I--”

 

“Doctor, please, let me finish. There can be no excuse for the crime of which I am guilty. I intend to offer no defense. Furthermore, I shall order Mr. Scott to take immediate command of this vessel.”

 

“Don’t you think you better check with me, first?” A familiar voice spoke behind Spock, and he swung around, taking in the sight of his Captain--alive.

“Captain!” He rasped, his entire body filling with pure joy and happiness as Kirk walked around him, a teasing smile on his face, “Jim!” Spock called, gripping his arms, forgetting everything for the moment. He was alive! 

 

Spock’s smile faded immediately as he remembered there were others around, and he removed his hands from Kirk’s arms, straightening his shirt.

 

“I am.. Pleased… to see you, Captain. You seem…” Spock’s eyes flickered over Jim’s body, “Uninjured. I am at something of a loss to understand it, however.”

 

Kirk glanced over at McCoy, “Blame McCoy, that was no triox compound he shot me with: he slipped in a neuroparalyzer. Knocked me out, simulated death.”

 

Spock raised his eyebrows, nodding. “Indeed.”

 

“Nurse, would you mind, please.” McCoy told Chapel, who left. “Spock what happened down there? The girl? The wedding?”

 

Spock simulated contemplation, “Ah yes, the girl. Mm. Most interesting. It must have been the combat. When I thought I had killed the Captain, I had found I had lost all interest in T’Pring. The madness was gone.” He and the Captain knew full well that Spock's interest never really lay in T'Pring, and Spock wondered absently when the subject would come up.

 

Spock noticed that Kirk had turned his body towards him, and was staring once more with that  _ look _ on his face. It was beautiful, Spock allowed himself to think.

 

The intercom whistled, “Kirk here.”

 

“Captain Kirk, message from Starfleet Command, top priority.”

 

“Relay it, Lieutenant.” 

 

“Response to T’Pau’s request for diversion of  _ Enterprise _ to planet Vulcan hereby approved. Any reasonable delay granted. Komack, admiral, Starfleet command.”

 

“Well, they’re a little late, but I’m glad they’re seeing it our way. How about that T’Pau? They couldn’t turn her down. Mr. Chekov, lay in a course for Altair Six, leave orbit when ready, Kirk out.” Kirk stood, adjusting his shirt.

 

McCoy was apparently not done, “There’s just one thing, Mr. Spock. You can’t tell me that when you first saw Jim alive, that you weren’t on the verge of giving us an emotional scene that would’ve brought the house down.”

 

Spock was prepared. “Merely my quite logical relief that Starfleet had not lost a highly proficient captain.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Spock. I understand.” Kirk said, nodding.

 

“Thank you, Captain.”

 

“Of Course, Mr. Spock, your reaction was quite logical.” McCoy drawled.

 

“Thank  _ you _ , Doctor.”

 

Spock and Kirk were almost out the door when they heard McCoy say, “In a pig’s eye!”

 

They looked at each other, then at McCoy.

 

“C’mon Spock, let’s go mind the store.” Kirk said, and Spock followed him out, still coming down from the high of realizing Kirk was still alive.


	4. Internal Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little smut thing I was thinking about today. Basically Spock is really into numbers? And Kirk is sort of just wanting to focus more on the action, but he comes (! hA) around eventually.
> 
> This chapter is Explicit. It contains some like vague dirty talk? Kirk being really sassy mentally, and Spock being a little shit.

“Captain,” Spock murmured, pulling his mouth slickly off Jim’s dick, “According to my internal clock, we have approximately 5 minutes and 32 seconds until we are required--”

 

“Spock, this is not the time for your...computations.” Jim groaned, tugging his First Officer back towards his unfinished business.

 

Spock leaned back against his guiding hand with an exasperated--or as exasperated as he could--look on his face. Did  _ nothing _ arouse this Vulcan enough to disregard rules? “I must protest, sir, as much as I would wish to remain here, we have duties to attend to.”

 

Jim smiled; he couldn’t help it. “Your only ‘duty’ right now, is this.” He countered, circling Spock’s slightly ajar mouth with his dick, teasing him with all he was worth--which was  _ quite _ a bit, Jim had a reputation for a reason.

 

“4 minutes and 56 seconds.” Spock reported, unfazed apparently, to Jim’s natural supreme charm.

 

“Okay, Mr. Timer, then let’s try to finish before that number’s down to zero, shall we?” Jim smiled. “That way, we’ll  _ both _ be happy!”

 

“Captain I do not…” Spock’s voice trailed off as Jim traced his fingers over the Vulcan’s ears. Spock squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, seeming to rock forward on his heels, then parted his lips, accepting this new ‘duty’ quite well.

 

“And Spo--ck, please don’t call me ‘Captain’ when you’re, ah, servicing me like this. Makes me feel like I’m taking advantage somehow.”

 

“Cap-Jim, it is not taking advantage, when both are willing participants in the act. I very much want to do this, Jim.” Spock stared up at him with dark eyes.

 

“Are you sure, you are Mr. Spock? You don’t seem too...into it.” Jim couldn’t help feel a little anxious; usually he could tell the partners he was with were enjoying themselves.

 

“I  _ am _ an alien, Jim, how would you suggest I behave to show I am just as invested?” 

 

“I don’t know, Spock, I’d like some  _ proof _ , or something.”

 

Jim was not prepared for the Vulcan to stand full height, towering over him. “Is  _ this _ proof enough?” Spock pressed into him, and Jim could definitely feel something long and hard also pressing into his thigh.

 

Jim whined, cock standing full and thick, trapped between him and Spock. Jim reached around and found Spock’s fingers, shoving three into his mouth and sucking, letting his teeth gently scrape against the pads. Spock made some sort of panting noise and gabbed Jim’s dick, his grip and speed faltering as Jim licked between his fingers.

 

“2 minutes.” Spock growled in his ear, and Jim thrust forward. How could this man make a  _ countdown _ sexy?

 

Jim was moaning around Spock’s fingers, mouth agape and eyes closed. His body tensed, and he could feel his face getting warm as he peaked.

 

“I’m--” Jim called, muffled, and contracted, the product of his orgasm splattering on the floor and over Spock’s hand. He relaxed, sated, then shivered as his First Officer brought his dripping hand up to his mouth and  _ licked Jim’s semen off _ .

 

“H-how much time do we have?” Jim whispered, tracing his hand over Spock’s erection, still clothed.

 

“45 seconds.” Came the choked response. Jim’s eyes flashed with a challenge.

 

“I’ll finish you in 10.”


	5. The Motion Picture thoughts from Kirk (Unfinished)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a fascination with my own masochism when it comes to these two, I swear. I'm always like "why the hell do people wanna read this shit and get sad?" and then write angsty line after angsty line.
> 
> (this chapter is unfinished, and will be worked on on my phone as I write other chapters on my computer)

 

“Spock!” I called to him, bracing myself against the rail, “Spock.” I said again, softer this time. Had he remembered us? Did he go through with Kolinahr? Did he want to come back?

 

The look that met me was nearly unrecognizable despite the familiar facial structure. His expression was cold, unfeeling. He couldn’t be gone. Not like this. Hope welled up within me, but just as easily doubt spit in my face as he completely ignored me and turned to Decker. 

 

His words blurred and his deep voice carried me as it had so many times before. I’d made a mistake: I didn’t need _the Enterprise_ —I needed my First. The ship had been beautiful and brought back so many memories, even being remodeled and completely alien to me it had felt safer than I had in years. 

 

But it wasn’t complete, _I_ wasn’t complete. I was making irrational and dangerous maneuvers, risking my crew, my life. I’d tried to get back to normal, tried to complete my crew. Bones even came out of hiding. He knew how much I’d lost, how different I was. _Of course_ I’d thought another Vulcan at the science station would fix everything. _Of course_ I’d thought it had simply been a matter of bringing myself back to my glory days. 

 

After all this time I was still in denial. I had been for a while, taking a wife as soon as Spock left, trying to drown myself in vacations and study, accepting the promotion. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that the only way I’d be back on a ship was if I somehow healed from what had happened between Spock and I. 

 

But my hand was forced and I was weakened by tragedy. When the images Starfleet had transmitted to me flashed behind my eyes, my first thoughts were on the Vulcan. Spock, what would you do if you were here? I needed him back, but I had no choice. I had the ‘Fleet send their best Vulcan scientist. I’d deluded myself into thinking it was because I’d feel more at home with the familiar look of a Vulcan by my side. On some level that was true. But deep down I knew the only Vulcan Science Officer I wanted next to me was Spock. And even deeper down I knew the reason why. 

 

       

* * *

 

 

Spock stood ramrod in the middle of the Senior Officers lounge, doing anything but lounging. I gestured to a seat across from myself. 

 

“Please, sit.”

 

Both Spock and I knew this was more than an invitation to sit, it was also an invitation to relax. Return. Not be just a superior officer and inferior officer but to be equals. Friends. 

 

When Spock refused to sit until I commanded him, I felt the anger and anguish of the past three years burn disgustingly in my chest. He left me and he had the gall to treat me like a stranger. After everything. All the missions, all the shared looks and smiles I’d elicited, he was going to act like it didn’t matter to him at all. I could tell with the way he was looking at me that he hadn’t purged himself of emotion, that he was just as barely put together as I was.

 

"We need him." I started, pausing. " _I_ need him." I was acting irrational, childish. But I couldn't help it, he'd left me and us and allowed me to rot in an office for nearly three years while he went out and tried to kill everything we were. It was hard to believe it was that easy for him but based on how much like a stranger he was acting I could assimilate.

 

"Then my presence is to our mutual benefit." Came the cold reply and I could feel something soft and warm inside me be stabbed by that ice. I closed off; ready to accept he didn't want anything. He didn't want  _me._ Was the thought of us that atrocious to him? Even just as friends?

 

Was he talking? Saying something about hearing my thoughts? That made it even worse somehow. If he could read my thoughts from that distance he must know how much pain I had been in, how needed he was by my side. And he did nothing. It was just stab after brutal stab, wasn't it?

 

I dismissed him from the room. 


	6. Fake Relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again I find myself delving more into the love and relationship of the two. This was originally meant to turn into something smutty, but alas. Do send me a note if you'd like a continuation or a smut chapter leading from this prompt. As always, feel free to send prompts of your own. I always look forward to new concepts with which to improve my writing.
> 
> In this chapter there is mild language, some sexual innuendo, and blatant love confessions. It would be most aligned with a "T" rating.
> 
> Another note: I intentionally spelled "t'hy'la" as "t'hai'la". There is no "hy" in Vulcan that would be pronounced as "hai", and therefore it is incorrect to spell it so. Bear with me, please. There will be more smut soon.

_ Captain’s Personal Log, Stardate: 5695.2: _

 

_ Something interesting happened a little while earlier and I want to record it to make sure my mind isn’t playing tricks on me. McCoy, Spock, and I along with guards L’Shaw and Daniels beamed down onto a supposedly friendly ship; unaware that the passengers of said ship were a bit more than  _ friendly _ and expected us to stay for the remainder of our lives. They took our communicators, but after a bit of coaxing allowed Spock to keep his tricorder.  _

 

_ The beings aboard the ship were incredibly empathic and respectful, you could even call them “bleeding hearts” for a lack of a better term. They didn’t want to hurt us; at least  _ most _ of them didn’t, and being empathic, they took our weapons, indicating that they could sense if there were any strong feelings or injuries and it could detrimentally affect them. _

 

_ Also aboard the alien vessel was a crew of what could only crudely be described as “scientists”; crudely because they didn’t follow any notable ethics codes and intended to study us. We were free to roam the ship--without our communicators, of course--but they started testing on Dr. McCoy first. I instructed Daniels to stay by the doorway where they had taken our good doctor in case they released him, and ordered L’Shaw to follow Spock and myself for protection. _

 

_ As we wandered the halls, Spock’s tricorder indicated significant sources of power coming from a very unsuspecting-looking room; and we entered using the gesture we’d seen the beings aboard use. I posted L’Shaw outside the room with a command to let out a yell if there’s trouble. That’s where it happened: _

 

“Bingo!” I called, eyeing the controls with satisfaction. Rubbing my hands together, I started feeling my way around. The controls looked somewhat similar to  _ The Enterprise _ ’s, but this certainly was an alien ship. Lost, I turned to Spock, who was eyeing me with what I could only describe as curiosity.

 

“‘Bingo’?” My poor First Officer asked.

 

I stifled a smile, waving my hand. “Focus, Spock. We need to figure out what these things do.”

 

“Quite correct, Captain.” 

 

We got to work, murmuring to each other which buttons looked familiar, and made quick use of the tricorder: I noted to myself to personally thank whomever invented it--strangely enough not required reading at the Academy--if they were still alive. Still, it wasn’t an easy job, reading a completely foreign language and trying to connect the controls to the power sources, and we were deeply tangled in the process when we heard a muffled noise and quickly jumped away, desperately looking for somewhere to hide.

 

“Come out, Captain. We know you are inside.” Called an unfamiliar voice from the doorway. Sighing, I stood out in the open, palms out. Reluctantly, Spock followed: hands clasped behind his back.

 

“It’s not what it looks like!”

 

“You are not attempting to take control of the ship?” The being called, one of its branch-like arms holding steadfastly to L’Shaw, planting one...finger?...on his mouth, presumably to prevent warning us to the alien’s arrival.

 

“No...we--” I looked to Spock again, pleading, as usual, for help.

 

Spock raised an eyebrow then shifted his gaze to my mouth, jaw clenching. He seemed to be considering something, and then made his decision. It was with a startled gasp that his mouth met mine: undeniably a kiss! A kiss? From Mr. Spock? Admittedly my brain seemed to short-circuit for a few moments before I realized this was our plan. I placed my hand on his face, gently brushing him away as I turned to the visage of our unexpected guest and equally shocked L’Shaw.

 

“We came here to be alone. We accepted that we probably wouldn’t survive in this environment much longer and wanted some privacy to...say our goodbyes.” I gave my First Officer a look of pure sorrow, allowing my hand to graze his lips and down his neck.

 

To his credit, he looked almost...shattered. Internally I swelled with pride: his acting was superb! But I was also fighting down some other emotion I specifically ignored. Once more I slowly gazed at the alien guest, longing in my gaze.

 

“Do you think...you could help us get back to our ship? I...don’t want to burden you, but my beloved and I were expecting to get married, but now, our son will be without his fathers.” I choked out, undue emotion making my sentiment realistic. With a look at the alien, I could tell we’d won it over and it released L’Shaw, its frame shuddering with shaking breaths.

 

“Follow me.”

 

If Spock and I held hands longer than necessary, it was only due to our need for authenticity.

 

_ After that, it was only a matter of infiltrating the Labs to extract Dr. McCoy, the alien lying to the scientists about some chemical being released, and getting us to our communicators. We offered to take it with us back to the ship, but it declined, stating its purpose was with its own people. _

 

_ I think the worst part of this...I can’t forget it. Every time I lick or bite my lips I can still feel my friend on them, and...it’s not an unpleasant feeling. I realize I’ve been closer to him than anyone else, I trusted him with my life more than once, but I’d never thought...I never considered...I couldn’t. There’s no way it would be permitted. I do admit to a level of curiosity in the beginning, but I gave up that possibility completely because of the service. I’d always assumed my First hadn’t reciprocated--how could he? _

 

_ End Log. _

 

I sat back in my chair and sighed. I hesitated a moment before clicking the intercom.

 

“Spock here.”

 

\-----------------------------------

 

“Mr. Spock.” I stood, adopting my usual teasing stance, abashedly eyeing him. “About what happened on the planet...the...ah--”

 

“I believe you Humans refer to it as a ‘kiss’, sir.” He clarified, rocking forward on his heels with the word in question.

 

“Yes, the kiss. Regarding the kiss...was that...the only  _ logical  _ solution to our problem? Answer me honestly, Spock.” Hope and dread swirled in me as I waited for his inevitable rejection. Or, confirmation, rather. Of that being the only logical course of action. 

 

“Vulcans cannot lie.”

 

“That’s not the question, is it, Mr. Spock?” I took a chance, making my way toward him and placing my hands on his shoulders, gripping possibly a little too tight as I focused my attention on his impassive face.

 

“At the time...I must admit to a certain...lapse...in logic.” He admitted, looking pointedly at the wall behind me. I licked my lips nervously.

 

“I wouldn’t be...adverse to another one of your ‘lapses’, Mr. Spock.” I whispered, my eyes drawn to his lips as his had been to mine earlier. 

 

This time the kiss was gentle and unforced: I don’t know how he managed to do it, but Spock gave the same attention to me as he does his science experiments. “Eager, are we?” I laughed as Spock managed to look both affronted and affectionate at the same time.

 

“Are you certain it is not you who is eager, Captain?” He purred, his deep and lovely voice doing exactly what he had expected it to. He brushed his slender fingers over my crotch, unfairly jostling what he was looking for. I gasped. I needed to get the words our before it was too late. I shifted in his grasp, bringing my hands to cup his face once more.

 

“Spock...this...this isn’t just  _ sex  _ to me. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I know what I feel for you.” I took a deep breath, “it’s love, Spock. I’m undoubtedly absolutely in love with you. It’s a little pathetic, I know, the great James Kirk, Starship Captain. In love. But...I can’t think of anyone more deserving of my love, Spock, and I think you know it. I think you’ve had to have known for a while.” I exhaled; less of a sigh and more of an expulsion of something dark and hidden deep.

 

Spock seemed to pause and calculate, drink me in with his ever-curious eyes--not that he’d ever admit the accuracy of that statement--and then took two of his fingers and traced them over my expectant face. At those points I could feel security and joy wash over me.

 

“Jim. There are many misconceptions about Vulcans; one of which being that we do not feel. It is a misconception I, personally, will admit to continuing. I have always strived to be honest with myself and others, but now I see I have not been fully honest with you, my Jim.”  _ My Jim, _ my heart pattered excitedly at the words, “You are the one person I feel most comfortable being true to myself with. I have difficulty identifying my emotions but I am certain how I...feel...for you. There is a word, in Vulcan, that has been used to describe the bond which we share, a bond encompassing the relationship between two people:  _ t’hai’la _ . There are many simple meanings to it in the English language; it is described as friendship, brotherhood, and love. Over the years, I have viewed you as all of these. I believe that our love is beyond any simple explanation, it is as eternal as the universe, and to deny it any longer would be illogical, detrimental.” As he finished his confession I could feel my face form into the look I’d caught myself giving him repeatedly.

 

“You’re lovely.” I told him. It’s true, it was a fact, a constant. He was magnificent, his logic, his humanity. The most flawed parts of him completed me, and my most flawed parts completed him.

 

We made love that night, and it was not the last time.


	7. Wrath of Khan Bits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little bits of Star Trek II: Wrath of Khan I think should not go unnoticed, or: Kirk+Spock's Inner Gay Monologue 
> 
> recommended reading alongside the movie... 
> 
> don't read this if you haven't seen WOK (STII) unless you want it to be spoiled. The ending bit is sad. Yes. But also happy if you've seen the next movie.
> 
> This is rated T for like minor amounts of gore+death.  
> There's no sex (sorry).

Spock sat on the bridge of the _Enterprise_ , finally no longer distracting himself with the basics of preparing the ship for launch. He paused and lifted a curious eyebrow; he had heard Kirk enter the bridge much earlier but now he could nearly taste the man’s excitement through the bond. This was one moment the Vulcan in most likelihood would not encounter in the future, and he decided to use it as both a ‘teachable moment’ and to further stir the barely-concealed joy of his best friend and bondmate.

 

He swiveled to Lt. Saavik, his best student. “Lieutenant.” She, in turn, swiveled to meet his gaze. “Have you ever piloted a Starship out of space dock?” Spock knew the answer but was fully aware that Kirk did not.

 

“Never, sir.” His ever-faithful student responded, barely concealed anticipation evident in her tone. It was easily forgiven; she was half-Romulan. Spock tilted his head towards the man who had been witnessing the endeavor, then stood.

 

“Take her out, Mr. Saavik.” Spock formed parade rest.

 

“Aye, sir.” Saavik visually composed herself as she made her way to the captain’s chair, and sat.

 

Spock could sense anticipation and nostalgia from the Admiral, who had been riveted to the encounter. A pierce of sadness tore through the man at the sight of someone so much younger and more promising than he at that chair. The Vulcan smiled inwardly.

 

“For everything there is a first time, Lieutenant.” Spock paused, then turned his head. “Don’t you agree, Admiral?” He’d caught the man by surprise, along with Dr. McCoy if the look the Doctor had given the Admiral had been any indication. _Excitement_ and _embarrassment_ and a flicker of _desire_ and _humor_ surged through the bond as Kirk momentarily lost composure.

 

 _You’re really doing this here? On the bridge? In front of everyone?_ Kirk thought, biting his cheek.

 

“Mhm.” He said distractedly. He was living vicariously through Lt. Saavik; exactly what Spock had planned.

 

Once the ship was free, Lt. Saavik turned to Spock. “Course heading, Captain?”

 

Spock was not quite finished teasing Kirk, he could hardly be blamed; the man had ruthlessly teased him in a similar manner during their voyage. He glanced at Kirk and was delighted at the look of awe dripping from the man’s features.

 

“Captain’s discretion.” Kirk managed without his usual flair.

 

“Mr. Sulu. You may...indulge yourself.”

 

“Aye, sir.”

 

At the door Kirk was smiling, finally unable to hold himself back. He peered at McCoy and shrugged, brushing off his reaction to the words the Vulcan had spoken. McCoy looked between him and Spock and Kirk could see the gears turning in the old Doctor’s head. His expression clearly said what he himself would not: _what the hell is going on between you two?_

 

* * *

 

 

After the distressing call from his former lover, Kirk immediately sought out his current one. When he entered Spock’s quarters, he noticed the Vulcan was bowed, his hands in meditation and his body still. Spock sat quietly for a moment, then looked up. Both he and Kirk were aware that Kirk was there. There was no reason for Kirk to knock; as soon as he’d ended the call with Carol, his thoughts had turned to the safety of what Spock’s serenity had offered.

 

Kirk now assumed a parade rest stance a polite distance away from the Captain of the ship. His behavior and tone that of a professional, the very issue he was here to face. Kirk did not have to speak the words, but he did for the sake of professionalism: he was very adept in pushing aside personal matters to face those of his job.

 

Kirk did his best to skirt the subject, walking closer to Spock and talking about the issue at hand, but he seemed to forget how perceptive his friend was. Perhaps he did not forget, but simply needed to hear it aloud. It was not logical, Spock thought, but it was most definitely human; a trait he had come to love quite dearly in his old friend.

 

“...of course, the ship is yours.” Spock finished saying, nailing Kirk right in the heart of his problem as always.

 

Kirk hesitated, needing more. Waving a dismissing hand, he spoke “No, that won’t be necessary.” He sidled up closer to Spock, taking in the kneeling position quietly, hands crossed over his midsection. He may _want_ the ship, but the ship was now Spock’s. And he had to respect that. Spock had worked hard and he had earned the right to this vessel. “Just get me to Regula I.”

 

The Vulcan gazed up at Kirk, his voice light but laced with the hidden message of acceptance. “As a _teacher_ on a _training mission \_ , I am content to command the _Enterprise_. If we are to go on actual duty, it is clear that the senior officer on board must assume command.” Kirk wanted the _Enterprise_ , or rather, the control it gave him. And Spock was quite content, even pleased at the chance to be working so closely with his friend once more.

 

Kirk propped himself against the wall, eyeing Spock with a look bordering on pure radiant joy, and his voice came out teasing as he tried to deflect. This was Spock’s ship, it wasn’t his place to take her over...and yet...it was so tempting. “It may be nothing.” Kirk said, once more minimizing. “Garbled communications...you take the ship--”

 

“ _Jim_.” This time, Spock’s voice was firm, but also holding the same teasing element as they had once indulged in their recent past. A tone they continued to use, “you proceed from a false assumption. I am a Vulcan: I have no ego to bruise.” Spock’s face was tight, betraying him as his eyes sparkled with humor in the low lighting.

 

Kirk’s overwhelming gratitude was tangible and his expression tugged itself into a smile. This was a game he could enjoy, and he knew that this was Spock giving over command, but doing so gently, coyly. Kirk walked away casually. Playing the part. Standing an appropriate distance from Spock to allow the chance for the Vulcan to retract his statement; although Kirk knew full well he would not. “You’re about to remind me that logic alone dictates your actions?” Kirk’s mind flashed back to every action Spock had taken out of emotion, somewhere inside elated at the thought that many of those actions had involved him.

 

“I would not remind you of that which you know so well.” The flirtatious tone of which he was so familiar once more escaped his lips. Spock paused. “If I may be so bold...it was a mistake for you to accept promotion. Commanding a Starship is your first best destiny. Anything else is a waste of material.” Spock stood, realizing not for the first time how far they’d come since he’d returned to the _Enterprise_ and to Starfleed. Not only was he here, with the humans and _human_ he’d tried so desperately to forget, but he was here expressing an emotion to this human. A concept which was likely entirely out of line for a subordinate to speak of. But Spock knew that it was never ‘out of line’ to speak one’s true thoughts, regardless of the circumstance.

 

Kirk’s teasing was back but muted this time. He was insecure. “I wouldn’t have presumed to debate you.” He said aloud. _Comfort me_ , he seemed to say. _I know I made a mistake._

 

“That is wise.” Spock returned gently. Knocking Kirk out of his momentary insecurity. The Admiral shot Spock a look: affection, humor, love, gratitude. All registering on his face. “In any case,” Spock continued, “were I to invoke logic, logic clearly dictates that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”

 

Kirk softened, he had known instinctively what Spock was going to say, but hearing it made him feel all that much more stable. “Or the one.” The human finished.

 

Spock rose elegantly to his feet, tucking his hands behind his back as usual. Kirk’s heart beat faster at the sight; so wise, so bold, so beautiful. He walked and then stopped about a foot from Kirk, his low voice pulling deeply at something in the Admiral. “You are my superior officer.” Spock started, “You are also my friend. I have been, and always shall be yours _._ ”

 

Rejuvenated could be the best word to describe the change that had overtaken Kirk at that confession. He gently kissed Spock the Vulcan way, two fingers brushing his friend’s, then headed to the turbolift, positive that Spock knew how grateful he was to have him. As Kirk waited for the bridge, he considered: _Bones was right. This is exactly what I needed._

 

* * *

 

 

The bridge was tense━new━but Kirk had been here before, and the ease in which he and his XO bounced ideas off each other was something old and unforgotten. The beeps and hisses and hushed tones of conversations around him was music to his ears, and he reminisced with Spock, who was immediately able to tell when Kirk went from business to friendship as he told the Vulcan’s brightest student she was in control of the ship.

 

* * *

 

“It, literally, _is_ Genesis.” Spock stated, moving to sit in a seat next to Kirk’s desk.

 

“Power of creation.” Kirk confirmed.

 

“Have they proceeded with their experiments?” Spock asked, seating himself.

 

“Well the tape was made about a year ago so I can only assume they’ve reached stage two by now.”

 

McCoy had been silent up until this moment, never a good sign as far as Spock was concerned. His voice held the typical amount of emotional instability as he spoke. “But, dear Lord, do you think we’re intelligent enough to━suppose━what if this thing were used where life already exists?”

 

“It would destroy such life, in favor of its new matrix.” Spock supplied.

 

“ _Its new matrix?_ ” McCoy’s voice once more held exasperation and anger. The Vulcan talked about life and death like the concepts were no more important to him than salt and sugar were to a cloud! “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

 

Spock tilted his head, amused. “I was not attempting to evaluate its moral implications, Doctor. As a matter of cosmic history, it has always been easier to destroy,” Spock ignored the look of gentle warning he was getting from Kirk, “than to create.”

 

“Not anymore!” The Doctor insisted, furiously, “now we can do both at the same time! According to myth, the earth was created in six _days_ . Now━watch out━here comes Genesis! We’ll do it for you in six _minutes_!” McCoy raised six fingers to further drive home his point.

 

“Really, Doctor McCoy,” Spock chastised, “you must learn to govern your passions: they will be your undoing. Logic suggests━”

 

“Logic!” McCoy repeated, laughing dryly, “My god,” McCoy directed his attention to Kirk, “the man’s talking about logic!” He turned back to Spock, looking in between the two as he gestured━rather unhelpfully, Spock thought━with his hands as he continued to yell. “We’re talking about Armageddon! You green-blooded, inhuman━” Spock raised a simple eyebrow at the ‘insult’ as Saavik interrupted over the intercom.

 

“Bridge to Admiral Kirk. Admiral, sensors indicate a vessel in our area, closing fast.”

 

* * *

 

 

They were damaged, badly, and as per Spock’s previous indication, the commander of the _Reliant_ had known exactly where to hit them. They had no choice. The viewscreen fizzled for a bit, then a familiar face smiled callously at the Admiral. Kirk stood. His breath was tugged out beneath him as he whispered.

 

“Khan.”

 

Khan seemed pleased, “you still remember, Admiral. I cannot help but be touched.” The attacker raised his hands to his heart in a mocking indication of gratitude, “I, of course, remember you.”

 

“What was the meaning of this attack?” Kirk asked, straightening his uniform to hide his fear, “where is the crew of the _Reliant_?”

 

“Surely I have made my meaning plain.” Khan replied, goading Kirk once more. “I mean to avenge myself upon you, Admiral.” Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance, a question and an answer flitting between their bond. “I deprived your ship of power, and when I swing around, I mean to deprive you of your _life._ ” Khan leaned forward. “But I wanted you to know first who it was who had beaten you.”

 

Kirk walked forward with his arms outstretched in a welcoming manner. “Khan,” He started, “if it’s me you want, I’ll have myself beamed aboard. Spare my crew.” There was an unfortunate hint of desperation in the Admiral’s voice; desperation he couldn’t mask.

 

“I make you a counter-proposal. I’ll agree to your terms, _if_. If, in addition to yourself, you hand over to me all data and material regarding the project called _Genesis._ ”

 

 _Damn!_ “Genesis? What’s that?” Kirk spoke faster than he would if he hadn’t known about it.

 

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Kirk.” Khan purred, amused.

 

Kirk opened his hands in mock-surrender. “Give me some time to...recall the data on our computers.”

 

Khan wasn’t fooled easily. “I give you sixty seconds, Admiral.” He turned, talking to one of his crew.

 

Kirk pivoted. “Clear the bridge.” Spock instinctively strode to Kirk’s side, keeping their mouths out of view of Khan.

 

“At least we know he doesn’t have Genesis.” Spock offered.

 

“Keep nodding, as though I’m still giving orders.” Kirk muttered. Spock obliged, knowing this was a very logical command. Kirk may be many things, but an idiot he was not. “Mr. Saavik, punch in the data charts of the _Reliant_ ’s console.”

 

“ _Reliant_ ’s command?” She asked.

 

“Hurry.” Kirk muttered.

“Forty-Five seconds.” Khan counted.

 

Spock knew what Kirk had planned as though he had thought of it himself. That was not true; Kirk had merely shared the information with him through their bond. Still, he had to let the others know, and had to be certain it is what Kirk wanted. “The prefix code?”

 

“It’s all we’ve got.” Kirk supplied.

 

“Chart’s up, sir.” Saavik reported quietly.

 

“Admiral?” Khan called through the viewscreen, obviously impatient.

 

“We’re finding it!” Kirk yelled back, him and Spock circling the bridge, Kirk at the front and Spock at his science console.

 

“ _Admiral_.” Khan was getting increasingly annoyed.

 

“Please,” Kirk pleaded, “please, you’ve got to give us _time_. The bridge is smashed, the computer’s inoperative.”

 

“ _Time_ is a luxury you don’t have, Admiral.”

 

Kirk turned to Mr. Saavik, cursing as he pulled out his glasses.

 

“Admiral?”

 

Kirk whipped around momentarily, “It’s coming through now, Khan.”

 

Spock took his place next to Kirk, his voice steady. “ _Reliant_ ’s prefix number is one-six-three-zero-nine.”

 

Lt. Saavik was confused. “I don’t understand.” Kirk and Spock decided this was good a time as any for a lesson.

 

“You need to learn _why_ things work on a Starship,” Kirk said quietly, his and Spock’s hands working the console together.

 

“Each ship has its own combination code,” Spock continued.

 

“To prevent an enemy from doing what we’re attempting.” Kirk finished, searching for something. Spock pointed, and Kirk found the three buttons he was looking for. “Using our console,” Kirk murmured, “to order _Reliant_ to lower her shields.”

 

“Assuming he hasn’t changed the combination: he’s intelligent.” Spock added.

 

“ _Fifteen_ seconds, Admiral.”

 

Kirk twirled around. “Khan. How do we know you’ll keep your word?”

 

Khan stared at Kirk. “I’ve given you no word to keep, Admiral. In my judgment you simply have no alternative.”

 

Kirk removed his glasses. “I see your point. Stand by to receive our transmission.” He had the look of his youth, a sly confidence radiating off of him. Turning back to the console, he once more spoke in hushed tones. “Mr. Sulu, lock phasers on target and await my command.”

 

Sulu lowered his head. “Phasers locked.”

 

“Time’s up, Admiral.” Khan said triumphantly.

 

“Here it comes...now, Mr. Spock.” The voice was quiet, but Vulcan hearing could pick it up easily. A fact Kirk was completely aware of and took advantage of quite a lot.

 

Spock entered the prefix code into the console.

 

“Fire.” Kirk whispered reverently.

 

The phasers fired. “Fire!” Kirk called again. The phasers fired again. The _Reliant_ fled, and Sulu spoke in shock.

 

“Sir, you did it.”

 

“I did nothing!” Kirk called, wiping his face with a handkerchief, “except get caught with my britches down. I must be getting senile. Saavik?” Kirk pointed to the Navigator, “you go right on quoting regulations. In the meantime let’s find out how badly we’ve been hurt.”

 

As if on cue, Scotty came through the ‘lift, clutching at the broken body of Midshipman Preston.

 

* * *

 

“I’m going down there.”

 

“Khan could be down there!” McCoy protested.

 

“He’s been there. Hasn’t found what he wants. Can you spare someone? There may be people hurt.”

 

Bones crossed his arms. “Yeah: I can spare me.”

 

Lt. Saavik stood. “Begging the Admiral’s pardon. General order fifteen: no flag officers should beam into a hazardous area without armed escort.”

 

“There’s no such regulation.” Kirk said, confused. Recognition dawned on his face as he glanced at Spock. “All right,” he relented, “join the party. Spock, the ship is yours.”

 

“ _Jim._ ” Spock called, intention clear in his voice, “be careful.” His barely concealed genuine worry was etched into his face. The unspoken words passed between them and Kirk smiled softly.  _You, too, Spock._

 

“ _We_ will.” McCoy interrupted the moment, if only pointing out the flagrant favoritism in Spock’s warning. Spock raised an eyebrow.

 

Then, they were gone.

 

* * *

 

 

“Jim. I think you’d better get down here.” McCoy’s voice was tight. “Better...hurry.”

 

Kirk looked over to Spock’s chair. He knew instantly, something was wrong. A new planet formed as Kirk ran through the halls. The ship’s hull hummed beneath his feet, but his focus was elsewhere. _Spock, Spock, Spock…_ it was a mantra repeating in his head. _I can’t lose him. Not again, not like this. Never like this._ Spock’s face was in his mind, his eyes, his smile, as Kirk dropped to the engine room floor. There he was. Sealed in the room.

 

Kirk ran forward but was held back. Why were they holding him back? He needed to get to Spock. _Spock_ , his mind was calling. “No!” It was McCoy, “you’ll flood the whole compartment!”

 

“He’ll die!” Kirk could feel himself saying, struggling against his friends.

 

“Sir, he’s dead already.” Kirk looked at Scotty, stricken.

 

“It’s too late.” McCoy said.

 

Kirk stopped struggling. He walked up and put his hands on the glass. He started to walk to the door, to go in regardless of if he’d die or not, but he knew that would kill not only him but McCoy and Scotty as well.

 

“Spock!” He yelled, wincing as the Vulcan staggered to his feet; adjusting his uniform. Even in death Spock was trying to put forward his best foot. He was trying to look his best for Jim. Spock wheeled around, walking until he bumped into the glass.

 

“The ship...out of danger?” Spock asked, his voice grating. He looked bad, Kirk noted, really bad. His skin was green and peeling with radiation. Sores. He was going to die.

 

“Yes.” Kirk managed blandly. His voice somehow worked. _I love you, I love you, I love you._ He thought.

 

“Don’t grieve...Admiral…it is logical…” Spock’s breath was coming in short gasps, “the needs of the many...outweigh…” His eyes squeezed shut in pain.

 

“The needs of the few.” Kirk supplied, weakly, this would be the last time he finished Spock’s sentence.

Spock nodded. “Or the one.” He started slipping down, his legs failing him. “I never took...the Kobiyashi Maru test...until now. What do you think of...my solution?” Spock asked. It wasn’t just a question, Spock as asking for reassurance. He needed joy, reassurance, love in the last few moments of his life.

 

Kirk looked around. “Spock…” Spock fell, and Kirk followed him. Spock pulled off his glove.

 

“I have been...and always shall be...your friend.” Spock smiled gently, and slapped his hand onto the glass: the ta’al. “Live long...and prosper.” Kirk gently raised his hand to the other side of the glass as Spock finally fell silent.

 

“No…” Kirk’s voice was broken. Nearly as broken as he felt.

 

And even after the ceremony...something was left. He could feel...something still there. A thread of bond? Was it simply Spock’s last words blessing him? Or something more…?

  
Unbeknownst to both him and McCoy, within the Doctor, Spock’s _katra_ shifted.


	8. {AOS} Kirk likes it rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is nu!Spirk contains rough sex, dirty talk, bottom!kirk, d/s elements, accidental voyeurism, etc! enjoy. Also some fluff @ the end.
> 
> Anyways just enjoy the fic

James T. Kirk was not a rebel as a child. He got good grades, kept in line, obeyed every command from his uncle. James T. Kirk was not a rebel, at least, not until his brother left. Once Sam was gone the brute force of his uncle had come unto him. It wasn’t out of the ordinary anymore, every time something went wrong he could push all the right buttons to get at the easily accessible anger just below the surface of the man. Jim reveled in the attention, any attention was good enough for him. Encouraging the torture had become so commonplace that it felt safer than when he had to confront any sort of _feelings_. That was him at his most vulnerable as opposed to when he was being berated. Jim developed a complex; something he’d heard described as a masochistic tendency, and when every fighting encounter he had with strangers in bars, in the street, in jail had always brought about a purely energetic feeling of satisfaction and pleasure, Jim couldn’t dispute the accusation.

 

It wasn’t too surprising, then, when the satisfaction and pleasure he got from fights twisted itself into something a little more carnal. More than once the self-proclaimed delinquent had found himself in a bathroom stall, pressing his fingers into the bruises whilst he raggedly fucked into his fist after particularly nasty fights. It was out of an animalistic craving of this brutality that he’d sped to the only worthwhile bar in Iowa, perusing the many beings on display. Don’t get him wrong, Jim was still a very sexual being in the most normal sense of the word, and despite his preference for roughness he still wouldn’t turn down a good fuck with a willing participant. But he wasn’t adverse to overstepping bounds and being put in his place, he’d never push the issue; he wasn’t _that_ sick, if someone wasn’t into him he wouldn’t press. _But still_ , he considered thoughtfully, casually leaning into his most recent brawl-induced injury with a breathy sigh, _one more black eye couldn’t hurt…_

 

This was exactly the reason he’d tapped what he’d judged immediately to be a more physically superior man on his tensed cheek, and smirked a teasing _Cupcake_ at him. The more people that joined in the better, Jim thought as he was knocked to the floor, drool unwillingly spilling from his lips. Rammed against a table, his heart fluttered and thick hot lust pulsed through his veins. _Fuck yeah_ , he thought, _just like that._ After that entire encounter had ended abruptly, he’d once again barely had time to make it into the stall before he was gasping and coming into the filthy toilet. He’d decided long before Pike had finished his speech that he was going to enlist in Starfleet; he’d had enough of whatever this town could offer him. Even though he didn’t like to think about his feelings too much he had to admit it would be undeniably a better rush to see his uncle’s shocked and disapproving face as he had his own Starship than anything he could get in this shithole.

 

He’d even made the best he could, still got the highest grades, the best fucks; was well-known as a promiscuous slacker but yet still managed to be the supergenius he worked so hard to hide. It was safer to be viewed as scum than it was to rise to the expectations of everyone around him. He tried to keep his identity a secret; he didn’t want people to suddenly look at him like his mother had looked at him whenever she came home for shore leave: like he was his father. Didn’t want the pity that came with that look.

 

As soon as that sharp-laced Vulcan Commander had stripped him of this comfort, he’d begun planning his demise. Jim could be brutal, even as he could feel himself hardening under the self-satisfied smirk of the alien officer, he was certain he could get him to break. He didn’t take his eyes off the pristine posture of the man, even as they were ordered to leave. He could hardly hear himself ask:

 

“Who was that pointy-eared bastard?”

 

Getting onto _the Enterprise_ was easier than he’d thought, and he was making good headway with his rivalry with the Vulcan in question when he was abruptly shot from the ship. Thankfully James Kirk was not one to give up, especially when he had a goal in mind. Meeting an older Spock was a bit of a shock, but he was more surprised that he himself had ordered Jim to break his composure back aboard the ship. He wasn’t necessarily thrilled at the thought of bringing up such a sore spot in the Commander’s life; he’d known loss too. But that part of him could be repressed. He could easily slip back into his petulant, probing state, and he was rewarded with exactly what he’d looked for: a break.

 

Every crack of Spock’s hands on him was pain and pleasure, and Jim felt himself get lost in the easy give-and-take of the small fight. Spock was three times stronger than Jim, a little ounce of Vulcan physiology that Jim’s rattled brain reminded him as he was cracked against the console. He was wheezing, he noted unhelpfully, as Spock rounded him, a being composed of pure rage. Jim clutched at his throat, he was completely shocked at how _well_ Spock could fight. He shouldn’t be: Spock was a Commander, trained in combat, but still. Jim rolled over, away from the Vulcan, but Spock caught him by his throat. Jim gripped at his hands body thrusting up uselessly, and wondered far off in his brain just how bad the consequences were for getting a boner on the bridge whilst being choked to death by his Captain. His body seemed unwilling to follow that train of thought to its natural conclusion, and as Jim struggled and wheezed for breath, he looked directly into the eyes of the beast and hardened in his pants. Spock, all grace and composure was curved alongside his body, easily choking him with one arm, a satisfied animalistic look on his face. _God_ , Jim thought with a throb, _I’m like his prey or something._ The world was starting to swim, and then━

 

Spock was gone. Jim looked after him, guilt crashing full force even after being assaulted. He knew he’d deserved it━even though Spock himself had ordered him to━and intended to make amends as soon as he could. But not before very quickly and silently jerking off in the sick bay restroom after he was done getting some medical attention.

 

Jim leaned back in the stall, gently applying pressure to the damaged ribs, hand sneaking up to regain the chokehold. Air rushed out of his lungs as his cock throbbed between his legs, his imagination taking hold. Those eyes, they had looked like they were peering into his soul. His brain changed the circumstances just enough to where the reasons he was being so roughly treated were just...a little different. _Spock was there, pressing against him, his hard alien cock nudging Jim’s own as he held him by the neck._ Jim moaned, his hand speeding up, unaware that there was another presence in the restroom with him. _Spock was going to take him as his mate right there, break his bones if necessary; he knew the Vulcan was capable._ “Spock…” he heartily breathed, encased in his fantasy. _How easily he could be handled, how roughly..._

 

The stricken Commander inhaled sharply, trying in vain to ignore the mixed scents affronting him. He should put a stop to his. He shouldn’t remain. His control had already been weakened on the bridge and his father’s conversation with him hadn’t brought back any sense of inner peace. He’d fled to the sickbay to reassure his newly-appointed Captain, but not finding him in the bay, he’d entered the restrooms, stopping suddenly at what his rational mind was telling him. He quickly locked the doors using his Command Override, gratified that his rational brain was still present enough to recall the codes.

 

The sound of skin-on-skin brought an un-Vulcanlike flush to his face, and the scents of arousal and pleasure were unmistakable. He’d located the Captain, but now he was at a loss as of what to do. This was likely in relation to adrenaline; he’d read somewhere that the fight-flight-or-freeze response in humans could lead to unwanted erections, but in the middle of this assessment he stopped cold. Kirk had just spoken _his_ name. It was━his mind volunteered descriptions, none of which were completely accurate━undeniably arousing, he concluded. His brain grasped onto this sound, repeating it over and over until his tenuous Vulcan control was once more overtaken by this simple Human, and he spoke.

 

“C-Captain?”

 

Jim stopped; his shock rivaling his arousal. Was that…” _Spock_?” He called out, and against his better judgment━he knew where is real brain was at this point━he opened the stall door and stepped out, not even bothering to cover up his flagrant erection that bobbed even under the gaze of the subject of his fantasies.

 

Spock looked shocked to say the least. His eyebrows were high under his hairline and his eyes were widened, but most definitely looking at Jim’s dick. He looked a little flushed, too, Jim noticed with approval. Deciding that he may as well ruin whatever ounce of integrity he had left with the man, Jim once more groped at his cock, and watched as the Vulcan’s eyes heatedly took in the motion. It was common knowledge that James Kirk was an attention whore, and he relished in this moment, slowly pulling one hand up and down his engorged cock, the other coming up to subconsciously feel his bruised neck. He took in a ragged breath, and watched Spock, who had up until now remained rooted to his spot across the bathroom. It was like a tree crashing over, the last of its core worn down. Spock calmly started making his way to Jim, one foot after the other, and kept walking, forcing the Captain to the wall. His eyes were dark, his expression was dark, and his hands were tracing Jim’s jaw, following it down to his neck. It wasn’t the same voice he’d heard earlier that now flowed from Spock’s mouth, it was something quite different.

 

“You presumed that your erection earlier was hidden. You presumed incorrectly. I could feel it against my leg as I choked you. I hypothesized it was merely the adrenaline, but now I see I was mistaken.” Spock paused, inhaling deeply before continuing, “your body, even now, is exuding pheromones; your mind is screaming _mate_. Are you unaware of this fact, or are you merely testing my boundaries once again?”

 

Jim groaned, the sound rushing out before he could stop it. _This wasn’t even dirty talk!_ He chastised himself. His hand, which had stopped when Spock had cornered him, squeezed at his cock again, and a bolt of pleasure raced through him. Spock’s eyes narrowed at the sound and he once more pressed his long fingers to the flushed neck in front of him, squeezing gently but threateningly.

 

“My restraint runs thin, _Mr. Kirk_. That was not a rhetorical question. Did━,” Spock’s grip tightened, “━you━” tighter, “know?”

 

The commander had intentionally verbally demoted Jim back to a cadet, labelling him as inferior; and that was _hot_. Jim’s dick agreed with him, the thrumming flesh swelling as the man himself desperately attempted to rut against the fully-clothed Vulcan in front of him. Jim wheezed and Spock let go of his throat just enough to allow the human a few words.

 

“I think you know the answer to that, _Commander_.” Jim sneered, or tried to. He wasn’t really all there at the moment. Most of the blood from his brain had sought better refuge in his dick.

 

“I want to hear you say it. Tell me, Mr. Kirk, what _exactly_ were you thinking about as you were masturbating?” Spock’s voice had gone dangerously low, almost a growl.

 

“ _Fuck._ I...I was thinking about you.” Kirk swallowed thickly around the crush of Spock’s grasp. “I was thinking about being... _ah_...being fucked by you...on the bridge.” _Spock’s tongue in his mouth, in his ass, on his cock, maintaining deep eye contact the whole time. Spock would watch him come undone, and he would be rough. He’d bite, he’d bruise, he’d draw blood._ Jim stared at those eyes from his fantasies as they glazed over slightly and the Vulcan inhaled sharply.

 

Spock suddenly slammed Jim over the hand-washing station, hand now positioned at the back of his neck. The newly-minted Captain’s regulation pants were shoved unceremoniously from his ass and he made a pathetic whimpering noise as a loud _SMACK_ reverberated through the soundproof room. Spock had just _spanked_ him. Jim raised his ass higher, begging for more and Spock gripped his hair, tugging his view towards the long mirror on the adjacent wall. Spock was curled around Jim, his face stone. His eyes were heavy and his mouth open; breathing in pants. Jim looked at himself in the mirror and absently rutted forward. He looked _debauched_ and _Spock_ had done this to him. Jim’s hair was just long enough to be pulled and his face and body were flushed with desire. Bruises were starting to form. He was about to twist his head back when he saw Spock slowly unbutton his pants and a slick green cock slapped wetly onto his reddening asscheek.

 

“Ah.” He stated intelligently. Spock started to rub his cock against Jim’s ass and gathered up some of whatever wet stuff was on it and press it in between the cleft of his ass. With his other hand, Spock removed a condom from Jim’s pants. Finding his voice Jim started to ask, “How did you━,” but Spock was having absolutely none of it.

 

“ _Silence_ , slut. Unless,” Spock slowly pulled his fingers away from Jim’s ass, “you do not wish to be fucked like the whore you are?” Jim clamped his mouth shut. “Good. Now, _open up._ ” Spock penetrated him with two fingers, and Jim’s body protested against the intrusion until the fingers crooked up and started scissoring him open and gently rubbing his prostate and his brain started buzzing with pleasure. Spock seemed completely prepared to continue his actions for the whole night, so Jim took a calculated risk and plunged himself onto the Vulcan’s fingers and tearing a gasp from his First officer. _He wanted a whore, he’ll get a whore._

 

Luckily that seemed to do the trick: Spock slipped on the condom and slathered it more in his weird natural lube that if Jim was being perfectly honest was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen━and his thoughts were abruptly cut off at that point because Spock was pushing into him and he was _big_ and _perfect_ and _really fucking hot_. Jim felt himself being uncomfortably stretched open but that was quickly resolved when his First tilted slightly and deliberately rammed into his prostate. The wave of desire that swept over him only increased as Spock gripped tightly to Jim’s shoulder with the hand that wasn’t reigning Jim in by his hair. Jim had a sudden mental image of him being some sort of pet on a leash, tied to his chair to be used only when Spock wanted him. No sooner had he thought it than the Vulcan’s gyrations sped up, a stuttering pace of in and out that had Jim reeling at every thrust.

 

“You would enjoy that, Mr. Kirk, wouldn’t you? You appear to derive an unusual amount of satisfaction from _public displays_. I find myself not adverse to the concept.”

 

_That voice,_ Jim savored, marinating in the low timber that had started haunting him. Spock’s voice was usually mid-to-high in tone, higher when he was being respectful, but now it was a deep rumble, as if he wasn’t used to using it. _Maybe he isn’t._ Kirk thought suddenly, _how often does Spock get off?_ He shivered, then gasped as Spock bit at his ear, slamming in and out of him.

 

“You are too coherent. Allow me to amend that.” Spock murmured, then at Jim’s confused look, added, “Vulcans are telepaths, James. I thought you knew.” And Jim fucking _lost it_.

 

The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the loud slaps of Spock’s hips against Jim’s ass and the ragged panting forced from the Captain’s lungs. Jim himself was completely losing his battle with rationality at everything Spock was doing to him: the Vulcan had discovered a particularly soft spot of Jim’s back and was attached to it; biting and sucking ravenously. He quickly repeated this action all over Jim’s exposed skin leaving spectacular marks that were glistening with his spit. At every meeting of Spock’s hips and Jim’s ass the human would emit a strangled groan, his body slowly numbing and tingling as his helplessly hard cock was trapped between him and the surface he was being demolished on. All too soon Jim had realized he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he whined.

 

“S-Spock...I’m. Close…” He grunted, each word coming out timed to Spock’s pace. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open as his impending orgasm gripped his muscles tight and raked up and down his body.

 

Spock _growled_ , a low threatening noise, and bit hard into Jim’s sweat-soaked shoulder, the taste of iron on his tongue as he finally buried himself deep into his captain and shuddered as his seed filled the condom in the writhing human beneath him. Jim cried out and came hard, the pleasure overtaking him finally: he felt like he was falling for a bit, then it subsided just as quickly as it had come. He sighed as Spock gently lapped at the bite wound for a moment.

 

Jim was gently detaching himself from the cleansing unit, wincing at his still-tense muscles as he noticed Spock tucking himself back into his regulation pants, not a hair out of place. Jim huffed out a laugh, and then broke down into a series of hysterical-sounding giggles.

 

“What?” Spock asked, tilting his head, his face once more a complete Vulcan mask of impassivity. The only indication of emotion was a single raised brow, and Jim’s laughter faltered as he shuddered at the strangely intoxicating sight. _Can people even be_ into _eyebrows?_ He wondered idly before realizing Spock had expected an answer.

 

“It’s not fair. Here I am, completely fucked and unprofessional, and you’re there looking like you just stepped out of a _meeting_.” The juxtaposition hadn’t been lost on the Vulcan.

 

“I do not believe it unfair.” Spock replied evenly, his eyes taking in the sight before him, “your state of being is rather...compelling.”

 

Jim smirked as he tugged his pants back up and slipped into his shirt, wincing a little. “I’m honored.”

 

There was a little bit of awkward silence when they were both dressed and unsure, Spock stood rigidly in his typical pose, and Jim rubbing his hand behind his neck nervously. Then Jim finally decided, and reached out, gripping Spock’s bicep with a firm hold. Firm, but reassuring. The human searched and found Spock’s confused eyes.

 

“I’m sorry...for what I said back there. It wasn’t cool. No, fuck that, it was downright terrible, Spock, and I don’t know if you can forgive me. If you can’t, I’ll understand. I just...needed to say that.”

 

“Captain━”

 

“Jim.” Jim interrupted, smiling longingly.

 

“Jim.” Spock corrected. “I am…’dealing’ with the loss of my entire planet and a significant number of my race. While it is true that your words did not help, my reaction was unacceptable. I find myself remembering our first introduction where I made some...particularly unsatisfactory remarks about your father. I do not blame you for your ferocity, Jim, and I believe you were not being honest when you made remarks about my regard for my mother.”

 

“So, you’re basically saying we’re even?” Jim asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

 

“That is what I said.” Spock offered. He suddenly paused, as if remembering what’d just happened, “Jim, I’m━I apologize if I was too…”

 

“Rough? Violent? Spock, I’m not sure if you noticed, but I definitely enjoyed it.” Jim let his hand slip from Spock’s arm, then steeled himself; puffing out his chest in his best “captainly” stance, hands on his hips. “Well, Commander, I think it’s time we got back to work. You get some medical attention...or meditate? I’m going back to the bridge. I’ll see you later...maybe over chess.” Jim smiled softly, and then was gone.

 

Spock watched him leave, then relaxed in the silence. For the first time since his planet’s destruction, he did not feel fully alone.


	9. There Is a Strength in Weakness/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something sappy and romantic.
> 
> Spock POV about why he loves Jim, and why his t'hai'la is unique beyond belief.

_So human._ Sarek spoke upon Spock's birth on the hot sands of Vulcan.  _So human._ It was a sentiment he carried with him eternally, his son was  _human_ , too human. Sarek raised his son the Vulcan way; enrolled in Vulcan schools, taught him to maintain his emotional control. He extended the discipline he knew his son needed to grow into an admirable Vulcan. A logical being, his human blood forgotten. In Sarek's eyes every mistake his son made, every rebellion, every emotion led to a bigger image and his plan was broken. Spock could not be formed into an ideal Vulcan. He was too stubborn, too rash. Too human. When Spock decided to join Starfleet and overlook _Kolinahr_ , Sarek ceased contact with him. He was Vulcan or he was invisible.

 

_Stubborn._ Amanda had known her son was stubborn from his youth. She treasured his humanity and tried her hardest to protect him and raise him to grow into emotion. She embraced his humanity in it's entirety and discarded his Vulcan roots; illogical since she married a Vulcan and bore him a child. When Spock made his decisions based on logic, she hated him. She couldn't forgive him for refusing to save his Father's life, and in that moment she hated him. She was a lovely woman and a very human woman, she wanted him to be human.

 

_Unfeeling._ Leonard McCoy often taunted him for being unemotional; completely alien and disrespectful. He delighted in Spock's emotional breaks and relentlessly teased him for them, his play giving forth to biting comments when Spock did not reciprocate. He was an excellent doctor but he couldn't overlook Spock's childhood and emotional training. McCoy didn't see the logic in Spock's tone for what it was; he needed emotional sentiments and niceties to maintain his ego. He expected Spock to be unfeeling, unempathetic, uncaring. 

 

_Perfect._  James Kirk saw into Spock's mind, he saw his imperfections, his warring state. Jim had seen him at his absolute worst, his most emotional state. Jim saw all of these things and didn't care; he asked only from Spock what he was willing to give, only accepted the emotion he was willing to concede. Jim pushed his boundaries for Spock's benefit; he encourages Spock to be his best self, maintains his friendship and never disrespected Spock's vulnerabilities. He didn't punish Spock for his logic nor did he shame Spock for his emotions. Kirk put his whole being into understanding and caring.


	10. [AOS] Pining!Kirk from ST:B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated E--for Everyone over 18! (or 16 in some places, 20 in others, basically anyone of adult age)
> 
> Star Trek: Beyond has an excellent Pining!Kirk representation, watch the movie. It's there. 
> 
> So I basically just made them get together (Kinda) I'll probably follow up on this one with more. Like telling ppl about it and moving in together, etc. Maybe even sex! Wow!

_“Because you are my friend.”_

 

Jim laughs weakly into the crook of his arm at the memory. It’s late, 0214, but Jim can’t sleep. He’s in his rented room at Yorktown Base, some random hotel. Altamid floods back into his mind; its beauty, its silence, its horror. But mostly he thinks of Spock. He’d looked so weak and vulnerable on that platform but he’d stumbled into Jim’s arms and Jim couldn’t help it: he felt just an overwhelming sense of happiness. It was fucked up but it was there and there was no sense in ignoring it.

 

Jim takes another swig from the bottle of whatever he took from his “secret” birthday party. And he’d been doing so good, too. He hadn’t even tried to break Spock and Uhura up once since they got together. He’s the idiot for thinking Spock’d actually care about him as more than just _a friend,_  but if friendship is all Spock wants from him, he’ll have to give it. But he doesn’t have to be happy about it.

 

It feels...wrong. It had when Spock and Uhura had gotten together and it does now. And this time he doesn’t even have the Ambassador to talk to. His heart clenches at the thought of the poor old man. What would he say if he knew how badly he’s fucked things up between his younger self and Jim? How would have felt to know just how quickly and horribly Jim had fallen for Spock? When Spock obviously had a girlfriend?

 

The two years into their five year mission so far had been less than Jim was hoping for. Sure, it was exciting beyond belief to go to new places and talk to new species, but there was something missing━he felt completely alone even with his 400-plus crew aboard. He made friends with all of them, dedicated portions of his brain to memorizing everyone’s interests, played games with them. The problem wasn’t his crew: his crew was great. The problem was his love life.

 

Ever since Khan and dying and Spock, Jim had found it increasingly difficult to just go to a random bar and pick up some random sentient being. At first it was a matter of taste: he’d found himself more and more interested in finding dark-haired, straight-laced guys to take him back to their rooms and have their way with him. He’d choke on their cocks, feel the burn in his ass, revel in the pleasure he was giving, but pretty soon he found out it wasn’t enough. There was something wrong. And that revelation was one of the strangest things for Jim, who’d been taught to use sex as his solution.

 

It was funny, Jim reminisces, how many times even early on he’d tried to deny the inevitable. When Spock had called him his friend there was such a bittersweet feeling in his gut. On one hand, he was overjoyed: finally, Spock had melted enough for him, all of the times Jim had tried to engage him had worked. On the other hand, though, Jim was dismayed. He was going to tell Spock right there how much he cared about him━maybe not a full-on confession, but something like that. He was sorta glad on some level that Spock misinterpreted, or else Jim might’ve started talking deliriously about Spock’s eyes or something equally sappy.

 

Jim, smart as he was, had taken way too long to realize what his feelings toward his First Officer were. He was sullen when he saw Spock and Uhura together, he dressed more properly to impress Spock, he laughed way too hard whenever Spock gave him that _look_ , that glint in his eyes. It all came down to about a year and a half into their mission when Jim made a decision that probably fucked up a lot of his chances.

 

Now Jim Kirk isn’t one for overt jealousy, but every man can be broken if exposed long enough. At the time, Jim wasn’t really sure even of his feelings for Spock, but he did recognize the heat in his chest when he thought of Spock with someone else, the growing resentment he had. He didn’t hate Uhura for anything, and he didn’t hate Spock, he just...felt wrong. He respected the hell out of both of them. They were professionals━his friends━and they were unmatched in their fields and personalities. Uhura was strong, bold, beautiful and sharp wit; all descriptions that could match Spock equally, if more so. The Vulcan had a way of getting under Jim’s skin, and if the long-ago choking incident and the nearly-beating-Khan-to-death-thing were any indicator, Jim expected the feeling was mutual.

 

Jim, the idiot, had just taken these things for signs of something more than friendship, which was obviously not the case━Spock was honestly just that protective of his friends. And, if anything, that kinda made him all that more irresistible to Jim, who’d always had a soft spot for fierce loyalty and honest, open, displays of affection. But still, you can’t blame a guy for getting a hard-on at the thought of someone beating the shit out of your murderer. And thus, Jim had initiated Plan: Make Spock Jealous━one of his less...thought-out decisions.

 

It centered around watching Spock’s reactions to his open flirtatious behavior with aliens. He’d touch them more than necessary and touch Spock less than usual. He’d touch whatever represented their hands and faces, flash a blinding grin, and watch Spock stiffen up out of the corner of his eye. It’s not like Spock actually _cared_ about his overtures; he was really just angry that the Captain was behaving like a slut, and he was supposed to represent the Federation. But still, every time Jim was getting somewhere with any species, Spock was always there to interrupt━which was always an unexpected but delightful surprise. This plan was pretty much ongoing.

 

 _Jim caught her eye━or what passed for eyes on her planet━from across the dining table. Slowly, he’d raised his glass to his lips and taken a deep sip, maintaining eye-sensor contact and watched with a sort of smug satisfaction as her facial ridges swelled with interest. Gotcha, Jim thought. He knew this species well━he’d done a lot of research before the mission━he knew what they liked, how they were equipped, and what their customs were. Honestly, he’d be just as satisfied with a full-on discussion with one of them to learn all this stuff, but no one said he couldn’t mix business with pleasure and learn a little more hands-on. Well, Spock had said that, but why should Jim care what Spock thought? The only reason he was dissuading Jim from having his fun was because he thought Jim was being too slutty. He’d show Spock_ slutty.

 

_The female Resghadian━who, if she happened to also be the first officer of the vessel they were doing business with, well that wasn’t anyone’s concern━ nodded her head twice at him from across the table; a cultural question, roughly translating in Kirkian English to: wanna get outta here?_

 

_Jim slow-blinked an affirmative and rose from the table, bidding the company a good-night, and allowing his gaze to linger salaciously on Spock. Jim may or may not be slightly drunk. Drunk enough to wink at Spock as he took the proffered arm of his bed-mate for the night and strode out to his quarters, making small-talk with the Resghadian━L’y’ria━as they walked._

 

_Jim was careful not to overstep his boundaries, and waited until they were sealed within his room to make his move: allowing his fingertips to trace over her sensitive head-nubs, inducing a purring pleasure-sound. The Resghadian race was an overly sensitive one, and the main sexual differences between them and the average human were that the females were gifted with the penetrative organ━Jim couldn’t really call it a ‘dick’, but that’s essentially what it was━the shaft of which was stirring against his thigh, and he rubbed her head-nubs more firmly._

 

_L’y’ria made a low murmuring noise and removed Jim’s shirt, causing his breathing to speed up. God, she was assertive; licking and dragging her long, triangular tongue along his chest and down to a nipple. Jim fell forward, grazing his teeth on the largest of her sensitive nubs, and sucking it into his mouth. Jim hummed around the soft skin and felt it heat up, pressed against his tongue. The Resghadian bit Jim’s nipple and he moaned, dragging her back by the clasps of her clothing. Jim carefully angled himself so that he pulled the alien girl on top of him on the bed, simultaneously slipping her out of the shimmering fabric covering her shell-like grey skin._

 

 _“I admit I do not know much of male human sexuality,” she murred, pausing to unfold the gently swelling organ from her robes as Jim watched in rapt fascination, his cock filling further at the thought of_ that _in him._

 

_“That won’t be a problem: I’ve got all the supplies right here. It’s not much different between our species, but human males are a little tighter...and...a-ah,” L’y’ria had been slowly unzipping and removing his pants as he’d explained but now she openly trailed a curious finger over his penis, gasping with excitement as it jumped._

 

_Jim reached behind his head and pulled out his tube of lubricant from underneath his pillow━it always paid off to be prepared━and slathered two fingers in it. Catching L’y’ria’s gaze, Jim snaked his hand down to his ass and slipped his fingers in, pulling on his best ‘come hither’ look, and reveling in the sudden prodding near his fingers. He moaned aloud, closing his eyes and thinking of dark hair, brown eyes, green skin, long fingers twisting and opening him instead of his own._

 

_“Do it. I’m ready.” Jim breathed, opening his legs obscenely, very aware of how debauched he looked, and reached out, gripping L’y’ria’s head once more with both hands and pressing hard, awakening something primal as she quivered and thrust forward, the vili oozing and slick dripping from her need━_

 

_Jim’s comm blipped._

 

_L’y’ria was halfway inside already, but this might be an important call._

 

_“Kirk here.” Jim said, proud that his voice barely even broke._

 

_“Spock here, Captain. Are you...busy?” Spock’s voice made Jim involuntarily clench around the invading organ in his body, and he shook from the responding throb. Jim distinctly remembered being obvious about his ‘plans’ that night, so Spock was gonna have to deal._

 

_“Wha’s up, Spock?” Jim mumbled, motioning for his bed partner to continue her thrusts. Jim exhaled sharply with every inward thrust, low moans forcing themselves out of his body as the pressure on his prostate increased._

 

 _“Are you positive you are not...otherwise disposed, Captain? You sound...strange.” Was Spock’s voice lower than usual? Was that a_ swallow _Jim heard from Spock’s end of the line?_

 

_“I’m f-ah-fantastic, Spock! Really! You━ah, fuck━should really be here! Making-g some great s-scientific discoveries!” Jim’s voice was getting higher pitched by the minute and it wasn’t helping he could hear Spock’s breathing from the comm: shaky and uncertain, but then again, he was probably trying not to laugh. Jim gripped his drooling cock with one hand, twisting and working the skin over the flushed tip in time to the increasingly erratic rhythm being pounded out inside him._

 

_“I do not doubt that, Captain, but I have reason to b-believe you may not be being entirely honest with me at this juncture due to intoxication. I will attempt a further communication tomorrow morning.” Spock was definitely sounding a bit out of breath now. Was he okay? Jim was worried a little, but he trusted the Vulcan enough to know his own limits, and there was some really interesting stuff dripping from his ass right now so he was maybe a little distracted._

 

_“Sure-thing, Mr. Sp-ock. I’ll s-see you t-tomorrow.” The words punched out of him every few seconds and he could feel himself building up higher and higher, Spock’s stony voice wasn’t really helping prevent that, the fact he was listening made it worse, and the alcohol in his system goaded him on._

 

_“Captain.” Spock acknowledged, likely to sign off, and Jim came, arching off the bed with an indignant ‘Spock’ and rode through the aftershocks with a hazy pleasure nearly wiping him out, but not before L’y’ria pulled out and slathered Jim in her own spunk, wringing a few more throbs from him._

 

_Jim sat up dizzily, and offered her his shower (which she declined) and her clothes (which she accepted), and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, followed by a pleased slow-blink. She departed nearly as quickly as she had come, and Jim was immeasurably grateful that the Resghadian culture frowned upon excessive physical contact post-coitus. Jim flopped back down on the bed and started sinking again._

 

_There was a long pause while Jim started nodding off, and then a polite cough from the still-open comm line. Jim was suddenly wide awake and the peaceful bliss from earlier was gone.._

 

_“Spock...you still there?”_

 

_“...Yes, sir.” Spock’s reply was quiet, with some sort of emotion Jim couldn’t name. Jim shivered in shame as he wiped himself off with the towel that L’y’ria rejected._

 

_“I’m really sorry you heard that, Spock. I...if you feel you need to file charges of s-sexual harassment, please talk to Dr. McCoy.”_

 

_There was a sort of exhalation of air from the comm, if Jim didn’t know better, he’d have sworn it was the Vulcan equivalent of a snort._

 

_“That will not be necessary, Captain, as I am the one who should be charged━”_

 

_Jim frowned. What? “No, Spock, you didn’t do anything wrong. Really. You’re the best First Officer in the ‘Fleet, and you’re my friend. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or upset━”_

 

_Spock made that weird Vulcan-snort again. “Captain, I assure you, I am far from upset. I will meditate, but there will be no negative impact on our friendship nor on my work proficiency.”_

 

_Jim breathed out a sigh of relief━Spock didn’t hate him! Awesome, now he was exhausted._

 

_“‘Kay. ‘m sleepy. ‘Night, Spock.” Jim curled up under his covers, listening to Spock’s breathing over the tinny speakers and feeling a warm sense of safety._

 

_“Goodnight, Jim.” Jim’s alcohol-addled brain must’ve made up the smile he heard in Spock’s voice._

 

That incident, Jim remembers with a twisted grin, was pretty much the worst of all of them. Since then, Spock had seemed to avoid being alone with Jim, and kept his conversations light and professionally polite. At the time Jim had thought his relationship with Spock was irreparably damaged, but about a week later Spock was back to his usual witty and verbose self. Much to Jim’s delight and horror, because not only was Spock back to himself, it also meant he was back to being affectionate with Uhura, which was what got them here in the first place.

 

Jim laughs at his younger, more naive self, placing his glass back down. He rubs tiredly at his face for a moment. That event had happened a month before Altamid, and he still hasn’t talked to Spock about it since then. He still feels an overwhelming sense of guilt for making his best friend listen in on him having sex━him being drunk was no excuse━he should’ve told Spock he couldn’t talk, he should’ve had L’y’ria stop so he could talk to Spock instead. But that didn’t happen, he reminds himself.

 

“Jim.” Jim jumps in his seat, turning to the suddenly-open door, and groans at the sight of his ever-beautiful First elegantly poised in the light of the hallway, the warm light casting shadows over his sharp face.

 

“Here to chew me out about almost accepting the Vice Admiral position, too, Spock? Thought you were better than that.” Jim’s attempt at bitterness is half-hearted and it shows; his voice is no more than a choked whisper in the dark silence.

 

Jim suddenly thinks about the picture he must make━drinking in the dark, alone━and laughs without humor. Jim turns away from the alluring image of Spock to stare down at the half-full glass and lament that he’s not even a little buzzed. He’s not drunk enough for this conversation, nor any conversation with Spock. Not when the two of them are alone and he might slip up about his insecurities again, or worse, confess.

 

“I am not.” Spock’s voice sort of trembled around the last word and Jim suddenly remembered when Spock’d pulled him from certain death the other day━Jim had said what _would do without you, Spock?_ And had seen Spock look at him with the face of a man seeing something completely new━it was only a flash of surprise━and suddenly Jim is on full red alert. Did he see something when he touched me? Does he know? Is he here to tell me he’s changed his mind and is going to New Vulcan? Or worse, remind me about how he’s in a ‘perfectly satisfactory’ relationship with Uhura?

 

“Then what is it, Spock.” Jim can’t muster up the effort to make his statement into a question, he is suddenly tired, so tired. He knows he can get over this rejection, but it’ll take a little while: he would know, he’s been through the same rejection every time he sees them together. It’s hard because on one hand, he’s just happy to see them happy━to see Spock happy━but on the other hand, he has this unscratchable itch that he could make Spock happier, that Uhura doesn’t know him like Jim does. _Illogical,_ Jim thinks, _I don’t know him at all._ But he does, and that’s why he fell in love with him. A drip of moisture collects on the glass in his hands, and runs down the side. Jim can relate, he wishes he were running, too.

 

“Jim, I━” Spock swallows, his throat whining with the words he’s not saying. _Jim, I’m sorry, I saw how you feel about me, it is not going to work out, I am leaving for New Vulcan tomorrow, I will bring Nyota with me and we will procreate on the planet and bring new life to my species and leave you and your illogical feelings in space, alone,_ probably. Something like that.

 

Jim swivels in his chair, planting his feet on the ground. He’s a captain, damn it. He’s not going to just cower in shame; if Spock knows about his feelings, he’s going to be proud of them. He’s not ashamed for loving Spock, not because he’s a guy, not because he’s a hybrid. Spock must see something in the set of his jaw, because he steps forward haltingly, almost as if he’s drawn to Jim. Jim watches with apprehension. This is definitely not what he was expecting.

 

“Spock?” Jim calls, scared. He doesn’t look angry, just...captivated. Spock walks, determined, and stops only a foot away, towering over Jim in his seat, his dark eyes unfathomable. Jim swallows. He’s so beautiful, even now he’s graceful. “S-Spock?” Jim asks again.

 

“Jim. If I may, I believe━showing you would be more accurate. I would not ask this of you unless I believed it to be of importance, and I find myself at a loss of words.”

 

Jim laughs again with the sand in his throat making it difficult to be anything but bitter. “Well, Spock, I knew you could be mean, but I didn’t think you were _cruel_. Rejecting me without even saying the words is on-par with a breakup over the comm.” Jims words drip out of his mouth, the resentment of this moment and small bouts of anger from over the years building.

“Rejection?” Spock’s forehead creases in confusion. Then smooths out in understanding. “Ah. But no, Jim, this is not a rejection. Please. You have been operating under a misconception for quite some time and it would be dishonest of me to continue to allow this.” Spock’s hand slowly reaches up and hovers over Jim’s face, a reflection of the mind meld that the Ambassador had done all those years ago.

 

Jim is in shock, still in complete denial. Okay, they must be talking about two different things, here. Because there’s no way that Spock just admitted he wasn’t rejecting Jim romantically. Jim slowly nods, and carefully brings his hand up to press Spock’s against his face. He knows he makes a pretty picture, submissive in his posture, gazing up at Spock with longing, and Spock gasps.

 

“My mind to your mind…”

 

_...My thoughts to your thoughts._

 

_Darkness, Jim finds himself surrounded in at this moment. Darkness, but tangible; he inhales sharply and he’s in Iowa again, on a field. Where is this?_

 

_//Jim. This is a place of joining. I have allowed it to be whatever soothes your current need, but I will now be bringing you into my mind.//_

 

_Jim’s hope and curiosity flared and eased the transition into Spock’s memories. Flashes, at first, small tidbits of information._

 

_Jim’s smile; I have counted two hundred variations so far and it has only been three months into our mission. This information is logical, I tell myself, as I need to know if the Captain is in danger━if his smile will reveal something he will not━but it is not logical that I find myself wanting to reciprocate. There is something inherently pleasing about Jim’s smiles, the genuine ones are nearly blinding, and there is much to learn from someone who uses his happiness to mask his sorrow. What could your smile tell me, Jim, that you could not? Spock chides himself for the one hundred and twentieth time: sentimentality is illogical. I must meditate and categorize these emotional reactions._

 

_Every early mission is extremely draining for me, but mostly the missions where Jim is on the away team. I find myself automatically tensing and have to focus to relax, try not to remember━_

 

_T’hai’la, Jim’s hand called through the glass, Spock cries for the first time in his life at the loss of his beautiful friend. Jim’s life source has always been bright until this moment, drawing Spock and everyone else in. Drawing Spock in in a way that he has not been drawn in before. Illogical, Spock thinks, but he wonders whether this is how his father felt as he watched his wife perish before his own eyes._

 

_Beating Khan━there was nothing logical in Spock’s mind at the moment, he realizes as soon as Jim is dead that he is extraordinarily emotionally compromised━he killed my t’hai’la, he killed one of my own, my claimed (illogical, he thinks later, Jim is not mine. He will never be mine.). It is logical that Khan must be punished for his actions, he must be torn limb from limb. Blind rage infuses Spock and he doesn’t come back to reality until he hears Nyota say Jim’s name._

 

_Jim is alive, and Spock has been waiting for two weeks, not sleeping nor eating, but meditating in the chair in the corner of Jim’s hospital room. He cannot leave Jim’s side. This has put a strain on his relationship with Nyota._

 

_Nyota, she who had kissed him so soon after his loss, providing a physical comfort that he was not aware of. On some physical plain he had responded to the kiss, but his mind was elsewhere, he would have accepted anything not to hear the telepathic shrieks of terror from an entire planet being murdered before his eyes. If accepting comfort would alleviate that pain, it was a logical decision, and if Nyota wished to continue their relationship, it must have been logical to continue to seek that comfort, so consumed by grief was he that he could not, logically, reject her._

 

_But even as he found minimal physical comforts in her body, he felt most satisfied when he was with Jim, when Jim was gifting him with a private smile━Jim had three only for Spock, and Spock cherished them━when Jim would return from an away mission, when Jim would tell him a secret, place a hand on Spock’s shoulder, radiating comfort and acceptance and affection. Jim was to be protected, Jim was to be looked after, but Spock could not offer that. Spock was neither what Jim wanted, nor was he emotionally healthy enough._

 

_Emotions were dangerous, and while, with Nyota, his emotions were light and non penetrating, a sincere camaraderie, his feelings for Jim Kirk were anything but: they were all-consuming, blinding. Once he had Jim he would never want him to leave, he would wish a bond, something much more than Jim was willing to give Spock. Spock was undesirable as a bondmate; T’Pring had seen this and rejected him, even at seven she knew she wished not to be bonded to a disadvantaged hybrid._

 

_Every day Spock watched with horror and barely-concealed jealousy as Jim distanced himself from Spock, a rejection, certainly. Had he, a null-psi, somehow discovered the depth of Spock’s carefully concealed regard? Spock attempted to convert to the human way of displays of affection, but he was uncomfortable. Nyota was not who he truly wanted and therefore it was similar to the dishonesty of allowing his feelings to be hidden when he accepted and initiated the human ‘dating’ rituals. Still, he watched Jim when he was eating with Nyota. He watched Jim when Nyota kissed his hands with her own. He watched Jim when she was trying to talk to him._

 

_The watching didn’t stop, and eventually, Spock was confronted. Nyota wished to know what was wrong, so Spock told her that the Ambassador was dead. He needed to continue his work on New Vulcan. These were not lies; these were things he needed to do, but the reasons were different. He had a certain mental clarity that if he continued on this path of destructive emotionalism, he would be doomed a life of unrequited pain. He needed to leave, to escape, and New Vulcan provided the perfect route with which to do so. The pain of losing Jim would be nowhere as terrible as the pain of watching and wanting for three more years. If he left, he might find happiness elsewhere, but if he stayed he would be destroyed by his emotions. Is this love?_

 

_The jealousy and possessiveness were not pleasant feelings for Spock. He could smell the remainders of Jim’s sexual encounters upon his person and became obsessed. He soon became aware that when he noticed such odors he’d taken to touching Jim more, unknowingly releasing his marking onto Jim. In a horrified panic at his loss of control, Spock had meditated repeatedly, but could not get the image of the golden captain out of his mind, bright blue eyes widened and dilated with lust, the noises he heard on a daily basis fed his internal image of Jim, adding fuel to the fire in his body as he attempted to meditate the erections away. He was no longer seeing Nyota and could no longer turn to her for sexual comfort, even during their previous encounters he had found his mind wandering to Jim._

 

_Then it had happened: L’y’ria and the comm line he had opened. Spock was ninety-seven-point-three percent certain that on that night, Jim was going to attempt a sexual pairing with the Resghadian First Officer, fully aware that she was equipped more similarly to a male by human standards. Spock had known that Jim slept with males, but this was the first time he so openly flaunted his sexual overtures in front of Spock, and he could feel the similar stirrings of jealousy start._

 

_That night, he had no logical reason for calling, but he was well aware his logic was compromised. His ‘logical’ reasoning sounded without real honesty even to his own ears; he wished to ask for a chess game._

 

_Immediately Spock could tell that there was something happening, that he had interrupted something, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. This was the only time he would be able to hear what his captain sounded like, and it compelled him._

 

 _As Jim’s soft voice flowed through the comm, Spock could recognize the uncontrollable lust washing once more over him; he swallowed as his_ lok _started emerging from the slit on his crotch, moisture filling his pants as he struggled for control, but he knew it was a futile resistance because he could hear every helpless breath and every strangled moan his captain was trying to smother. Spock, realizing he was still in the hallway, had swiftly moved to the nearest storage room and locked the door behind himself, sighing as he allowed his insistent phallus to slip fully into the cooler air, the crown swelling and glistening._

 

 _Jim was attempting to speak, but his speech was punctuated by repeated gasps and moans, falling apart right before Spock. Spock reached out his digits and carefully trailed along his palm; nearly gasping as the smooth glide of his fingers reached the points as Jim, the glowing essence that he was, shattered with a moan━was that_ his _name?━and Spock followed suit, his_ lok _twitching in the air as it spat his seminal fluid into empty space. Spock exhaled slowly as he withdrew his_ lok _into himself, clenching his jaw._

 

 _Shame was not an unfamiliar emotion to him, but now he felt it with renewed passion, and despite Jim’s insistence that_ he _was the one who should be punished, Spock knew the truth: Spock, himself, had known the captain was engaging in coitus and he’d allowed himself to be drawn into temptation and had even taken pleasure in Jim’s private sounds━Spock was not invited, he had no right to hear those sounds━and that was inappropriate. So, despite his promise to Jim that it would not affect their relationship, he found himself avoiding contact with Jim. Partially because he wasn’t sure he could keep himself from kissing the man himself, swallowing those moans. It was during these times when he would initiate a friendly physical contact with Nyota. She did not question it━most likely she had assumed Spock was having difficulty with their new relationship status━and Spock did not correct her._

 

_Altamid was where he decided he would tell Jim how he felt. He could sense Jim watching him, every touch, every emotion transferred to Spock fed his determination━he would not die, he would tell Jim, then he would leave for New Vulcan because there was no possibility that Jim could return his affections._

 

_He had thought that until he’d pulled the captain into their stolen craft and Jim’s gratitude and love and relief were tangible in the air. Spock was in shock before he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for even considering leaving this man. Jim needed Spock, and Spock would never do anything to harm him._

 

_//Spock...//_

 

Jim imagines something like a flower bud blossoming in his mind, and with it, he pulls out all of his feelings and thoughts from the past years. It only takes a moment, but he savors every memory of Spock where he couldn’t help but smile, how his body had always been turning to Spock, opening itself to him without his knowledge, and his mind does the same now.

 

“Spock.” Jim says aloud, feeling the cool presence of Spock leave his mind reluctantly. He swallows and tries again. “Spock, I’m sorry.”

 

Spock gives him a questioning look, tilting his head slightly with an eyebrow poised elegantly. Jim laughs. A shocking, loud sound in the silence, but it breaks something in between them, and Spock’s icy expression melts into something a lot more intimate and affectionate; a look Jim has never seen on his face before, but, in a way, he’s seen it a million times in different variations.

 

“Spock, how can we both be simultaneously so fucking smart and so fucking stupid at the same time?” Jim laughs, relief flooding his body and making him shake as he reaches out to touch Spock’s smooth face.

 

“Eloquent, as always, captain. I can only assume we both perceived that which we believed we deserved. I apologize that I cannot speak more on this matter aloud...emotional discussion is still...difficult for me.” Spock’s face falls at his own admission, and Jim smiles brightly, shaking his head.

 

“You think that’s some sort of dealbreaker for me, Spock? I want _you_ , in whatever form you can offer. God, I sound like a postcard.”

 

“You sound as you are, Jim, a postcard does not speak, and therefore━”

 

Jim shuts him up with a kiss, and smiles against Spock’s mouth with the knowledge that it won’t be the last.


	11. [aos] Spock Prime + Kirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight D/S elements, a little tiny bit of angst, A FUCK-ton of smut. Some sass. Rated E.
> 
> I love spock prime/nu!kirk... its so gay and loving in my mind, and spock prime would fucking relish this so much after everything he's been through with kirk's death.
> 
> honestly there's an episode in Next Gen with Spock and this is after Kirk's death and he's so much...less of a person than he was before. The spark of life is almost fully gone and it's depressing as fuck.

Jim sank down into his cushy, overpriced chair and flicked on the monitor at his desk. This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, a voice sung in his head. He ignored it and cued up the private connection to New Vulcan he’d established at the beginning of the five year mission. Jim fidgited; he bounced his knees, rubbed his sweaty palms on his naked thighs, chewed his lips until they felt swollen and raw. This was a really bad idea.

 

Jim groaned. Thunked his head on the desk. Made him feel a little better, but this was still a bad idea.

 

The monitor chimed. “... _Jim?_ ”

 

Jim’s head popped up. “Spock!”

 

The Ambassador’s bemused expression met Jim’s exaggeratedly excited face, and there was a twinkle in those old eyes that warmed Jim in more places than he was willing to admit. Jim grinned and shifted nervously in his seat.

 

“Captain, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” Spock’s voice was velvet in Jim’s cabin, bouncing off the walls and soaking into his eager skin, Jim thrummed with the attention; any Spock was a nice Spock to him.

 

“Um. Yeah, about that.” Jim laughed with a strained tone. “Urgh, this is gonna sound really bad. I don’t really. Ah━” Jim cut himself off with an anxious rub to the back of his neck, and didn’t miss the way the Ambassador’s dark eyes trailed over his exposed chest. Jim laughed again, a little easier this time. The Ambassador averted his gaze, almost...embarrassed? “Were you ever...with...your Jim?”

 

Spock raised a grey brow in question. “...with?”

 

Jim trained his eyes on the rising and falling chest of the man he’d told all his secrets to. That mind meld had been like a warm hug and ever since━there was such a similar warmth whenever they talked, the Ambassador had always listened to him, accepted him, it was like...like he actually  _cared_ about Jim. That kind of attention does stuff to a guy. Weird stuff. Wasn’t Jim’s fault his brain and body were having a hard time telling this Spock and the one on his ship apart━they were the same being, essentially, and Jim could even see some of the easy banter slip into their conversations. It was getting pretty weird, though, to be having all these dreams and feelings. This older version of his first officer was still looking at him as if he were some sort of interesting science experiment, and he decided it was time to cut that off.

 

The bright blue eyes gazed into the older Vulcan, penetrating his soul. Spock sighed, resigned to his fate of never being able to resist the whims of this fascinating younger version of his long gone bondmate. “Jim,” He spoke, admonishment clear in his tone, “You know full well that I cannot say anything that may━”

 

“━influence my world,” Jim waved the issue away with his hands as his face scrunched up in displeasure, “I know.” He paused, then flicked his gaze up to the Vulcan. “But this isn’t about that, this doesn’t have to do with my path, or whatever. This is about _you_ , Spock. _Your_ world━not mine. I mean obviously, here, the Spock on my ship isn’t interested.”

 

The dark eyes twinkled at Jim and he had to suppress a shiver. “He does not know what he is missing. Truly a shame.” The Ambassador took a moment to think, then seemed to come to a decision. “Very well. I will concede to your logic. The James Kirk of my universe and I were...romantically involved.”

 

Jim’s heart pounded in his chest, a wave of pleasure surged through his body and heated him. His heart started pounding faster with anticipation to his next question.

 

“Were you...interested in him during your mission?”

 

Spock’s stare was solid, but his breathing unsteady. “Define ‘interested’.”

 

Jim licked his lips and then gently teased his lower lip between his teeth, studying the Ambassador━and there it was: dark eyes caught and held the lip, eyes widened slightly, and the usually smiling mouth parted with a slight gasp. _Oh, boy. What have we here?_ Jim leaned back in his chair, letting the beam of light from his restroom melt over his skin like gold, feeling the shit-eating grin spread itself over his face, and his cock perked up more in his briefs.

 

“Come on, Spock,” Jim purred the name in his deepest register, enunciating the sharpness of the ‘k’, “I think you know what I’m asking.”

 

The Ambassador shuddered slightly and Jim marveled at this open display of emotion; emotion for _him._ Jim knew sex, he recognized all of the body’s reactions in numerous species━of course, Vulcans were easy when they chose to show it because they essentially reacted the same as humans━and he loved to see those reactions, but this was different. This was Spock, the Ambassador, but still Spock. And that, as they say, was hot as fuck. Jim may or may not have been having an increasing number of wet dreams centered around these two (one?) Vulcans.

 

“If you are inquiring as to whether I was sexually attracted to Jim...the answer would have to be yes. We did not, ah, ‘consummate’, or even understand the nature of our feelings until after our mission together, but I was in frequent contact with his mind as required by the risky nature of our work and...found myself fascinated by it, and him. His _katra_ was very...intriguing.”

 

Jim’s smile reminded Spock of a _le-matya_ on a hunt. “Oh,” The captain said innocently, “so it was just his _mind_ you were attracted to?” Jim allowed his hand to drop onto his chest and graze a stiffening nipple, the action shooting straight to his groin.

 

“ _Jim…_ ” Spock was admonishing him again, but his voice was shaky. Jim could taste the tension in the air, and smirked at the weakening face in front of him.

 

“Isn’t that...illogical?” Jim was still smugly teasing the older Vulcan; in some universes there remained constants, it seemed. “Or... _human_? To be attracted to matters of the flesh?”

 

“As  _someone_ ,” Spock’s tone left no question as to who this was, “once told me: ‘we are all a little human.’” Gone was the blushing virgin Jim had been teasing━this side of Spock was all Vulcan Warrior━and a deep rumble seeped out of the monitor, surprising both of them. Spock cleared his throat. “Forgive me,  _ashal-veh._  That was...unexpected.”

 

Jim huffed out a surprised laugh of wonder. “Did you just━ _growl_ at me, Mr. Spock?”

 

The Spock in question’s lips twitched in amusement and his cheeks tinted an interesting shade of green; a reaction that Jim was infinitely familiar with. The Vulcan was speaking again, in a low voice, and Jim was reminded of an ancient world of violence.

 

“It is an unfortunate ‘side effect’ of being descended from a race of warriors, my friend, and my control is not what it once was.” Dark eyes drank in the flushed skin. “Particularly where _you_ are involved.”

 

Jim shivered. Licked his lips. Then decided, in a moment of pure captainly professionalism:  _f_ _uck it._

 

“Did your Jim ever do  _this_?” Jim drawled out, rising from his seat, trailing his hands down his body, ribs, stomach. He made no attempt to hide the fullness of his cock in his briefs. He stood proudly exposed and a gasp of air was pulled from his lungs as the Ambassador’s eyes raked his body. He looked hungry, Jim thought, squeezing a hand over the hardness in his underwear at that look alone.

 

It took a moment for Spock to respond, and when he did his voice was a commanding, deep rumble. The Ambassador’s tongue made a quick appearance━tracing his lips and drawing the lower into his mouth briefly as he closed his eyes. He looked on the edge of his control. _Hot_ , Jim decided.

 

“He did not.” Spock’s nostrils flared and he seemed to sway where he was sitting as he leaned closer. “James, you test my limits. You are treading into dangerous territory; if I were to have you now...there is no accounting for my reaction next we meet in person. I would never force myself upon you━I would never cause you harm━but I have been known to be...possessive of that which I perceive to be mine.” An unwarranted image of Nyota’s account of Spock beating Khan to a pulp flashed into Jim’s head. _Mine._ _His._

 

“Fuck, Spock, you know I don’t c-care about that.” Jim stuttered as he pulled his briefs down, compressing his needy cock as the band moved down. “It’s kinda hot, actually. I work for Starfleet━I obviously have no problems with being _owned_ ━” Spock growled at that, and another wave of heat went through Jim. “You gotta. Stop doing that, Mister. ‘Nless you want me to unload everywhere.”

 

“Not yet.” The image wavered as Spock stood, hands steepled at his chest. He was dressed in dark robes, which were interestingly pointed out at his crotch. Jim whined, and saw the cloth twitch. “Remove your hand. I wish to see you.”

 

Jim complied as his military training kicked in, his chest puffed out and his cock rose to full hardness. “You’re one kinky Vulcan, you know that?” Jim couldn’t resist mouthing off.

 

Spock smirked, his eyes warm with affection, as he let the robes part and then fall from his shoulders. Jim licked his lips at the expanse of skin in front of him, silver hair curled and covered the chest of the elder, and Jim wanted to curl his fingers in it. Wanted to see how soft it was. The robes had fallen, but stayed hooked over Spock’s dick and Jim groaned in frustration.

 

“And you, sir, are not very subordinate.” Spock was teasing him again. Jim couldn’t take it, he’d been literally _dreaming_ about this.

 

“Come on, Spock, I’ve been actually having dreams about this for _weeks_. Please let me see it. I’ll do anything.” Jim’s voice was losing its power, and his arousal grew at the humiliation, the pure release of power to someone infinitely wiser than himself. Spock could take care of him.

 

Spock’s eyes gave an interesting twinkle, and the robes over his cock twitched again, looking shiny with wetness. “Very well, my Jim. Although when we meet next, I will have to teach you how to be more...compliant.” Jim’s laughter cut off with a startled moan when the robes fell and exposed the hardened flesh beneath. The curls of hair went all the way down to a patch at the base of a green-flushed cock, nearly identical to a Human one, but there were slight bumps along it, and he didn’t have balls hanging down, or anywhere in sight. The flesh looked wet and glinted in the light of the monitor.

 

“ _Aitlu nash-veh estuhl du._ ” Jim’s voice was reverent, teeming with hunger, and his rosy cock was drooling. He made quite the image of an all-powerful captain, he thought. _I want to touch you._

 

Spock looked slightly surprised at his use of Vulcan but more importantly━at the sound of his mother tongue from Jim’s lips━Spock’s cock pulsed, and the Vulcan gripped it in one of his hands, shakily squeezing it. Jim’s mouth went dry.

 

“You are full of surprises, bright one. Is it up to your standards?” Spock asked like he was reading off a chart, and not pumping a hand up and down his dick as he watched Jim struggle not to copy his actions.

 

“God, yes. It’s beautiful. They don’t have many anatomical representations of Vulcan genitals in textbooks, and I wasn’t about to ask Bones━” A growl interrupted Jim, and the Human bit his lip in a smirk at the pure anger reflected back at him from his screen. Oops.

 

“I would prefer if you did not speak of others whilst in such a compromising position.” Spock grated out, looking like it took a lot of effort not to come make sure Jim was nice and quiet himself. Jim’s grin took a new form and Spock bit back a moan of anger; he knew the look of a man preparing to further rouse him.

 

“Oh?” Jim asked, the picture of pure innocence, even as his dick twitched in anticipation. “Does it...anger you to know that Leonard━” Another growl, more precum trailed down Jim’s shaft, “━gets to touch me? And you don’t? You know, I think he sometimes gets a little too much pleasure out of those prostate examinations…” Spock looked icily composed, but his mouth was in a snarl as his hand worked faster over his dick, the green flesh bubbling happily at the tip, no doubt in anticipation to mark Jim as his. Jim swallowed thickly at the thought. “W-would it bother you to know how many times he’s seen me hard? How I sometimes even touch myself when he does it? Hold my cock away so he can’t see how turned on I get from just a few fingers in━”

 

“Turn around and bend at the waist. Spread your legs and brace your forearms on the bulkhead.” The command in his voice left no room for insubordination, and Jim quickly moved to follow the orders, his untouched dick dripping on the carpet. He could hear the wet sounds of Spock’s hand working over his dick, how it sped up as Jim presented himself. “Marvelous.” Spock sounded out of breath, his voice still low but no longer angry. “Do you enjoy this, Jim? Being on display for me?” Jim bit his lip as a groan sounded low in his throat, and he tried not to fidget; to touch himself, to squeeze his thighs together around his cock, to get some sort of release. “Answer me.”

 

“Yes!” Jim squeaked out, failing to suppress a useless thrust forward into the air.

 

“Yes, what?” Oh god, Spock was going to make him say it. A full power change. Jim’s fate in his hands. But Jim had put his fate in Spock’s hands before, and trusted him implicitly.

 

“Yes, sir.” The trembling Human moaned, and whined as he heard the slick sounds of Spock working his hand over himself increased more. God, that would feel good inside him, Jim thought, his ass clenching in response.

 

Spock, apparently, knew all of his fantasies, because his voice was smug when he next spoke, albeit slightly out of breath from this display of submission.

 

“James, tell me. Does the thought of being this exposed arouse you?”

 

Jim smiled at the bulkhead. Spock really was a smug bastard. He wiggled his hips and heard a startled gasp. “Yes, sir.” He heard a swallow, and then the pace pick up on Spock’s dick again.

 

“Would it arouse you if my counterpart were to walk in and see you in this position?” Jim gasped. “You, submissively bending for him━for me━readily awaiting to be mated?” His age-drawn voice was dripping with seduction and heat.

 

“Y-yes, sir.” Jim imagined the look on his Spock’s face if he saw━if he came in━ “Mmh.” He grunted.

 

“Touch yourself, but turn and face me. Tell me what you want.”

 

Jim turned back around, and leaned back, feeling the solid wall supporting him. He licked a stripe along his palm, and quickly grabbed his cock. Finally. He had to go slow or else he might actually cum. Jim’s eyes stayed riveted on the green shaft being swallowed by Spock’s fist, there was a substance dripping from the wizened fingers. Unsatisfied with Jim’s pace, Spock stopped and quirked a brow. _I’m waiting,_ his look said.

 

“I-I want...so much, Spock. I want you in me. Either of you, both of you.” Jim’s mind raced with the words he’d not spoken aloud, the fantasies he’d had. His hand squeezed over his cock, while the other trailed lower, gripping his ass, trailing along his thighs. “I wish these were your hands on me. I want the world to know who I belong to, I want to taste you, swallow you down ‘till you come in my throat━ah, fuck━I want your cum all over me, Spock━” Jim’s hand had sped up and he gazed helplessly into the monitor. “Fuck, you don’t know how━hard it is to see you on the bridge, in the hallway, with these crazy fantasies━”

 

Spock’s voice was a growl as it left his lips. “I. Know.”

 

It took the breath out of Jim’s lungs and he whined as he wrung his hand over the sensitive head of his cock, the encouraging shudder in Spock’s body pushed him closer. “I’m thinking about you taking me in the captain’s chair. How about it, Ambassador? A bit of━nh━diplomacy? I bet your dick feels really good and wet━ah, damn, Spock, I’m really close, s-sorry━” Jim bit his lip and slowed down as his body started tingling, his limbs feeling warm and his muscles contracting.

 

“Jim. Do not apologize━I find myself...in a similar state.” Spock definitely looked like it; his whole body was taught, one hand sliding wetly along his shaft as the other raked along his chest, his hips were thrusting forward as if his hand wasn’t moving fast enough.

 

“Okay, shit, I’m gonna come.” Jim murmured and locked eyes with Spock as he jerked one, two, three times and then cried out as his body locked up and the pleasure radiated from his dick to his brain and his fingers and toes. Jim’s cum spurted and splattered on his face, his lips, his chest. Jim kept going until his dick was too sensitive to touch, He looked at Spock, his eyes heavy and sated, and licked his own cum from his lips as he watched the Vulcan follow after him.

 

Spock held onto his dick as the slick cum flowed over his fist, down his knuckles. He was standing straight, his head tilted back and eyes closed as he huffed through his orgasm. Jim’s spent cock gave a sympathetic jerk at the image. He wished he could’ve been there to swallow all of that.

 

The two beings stood for a moment, glazed over in pleasure, and then realized their surroundings steadily. Jim peeled himself off the wall to grab a towel and Spock licked his hand clean as he reached for a basin of water. When both were sufficiently cleaned, Jim relaxed back into his chair and gazed at the Vulcan with wonder.

 

“Well, shit.”

 

“Indeed.” Spock looked too smug for Jim’s liking.

 

“Fuck, I have a briefing with Spock and the other senior officers in a few hours. That’ll be fun, now that I’ve seen his dick.” Jim huffed and wiped a hand over his face, running through his hair.

 

“You are free to see it whenever you wish, Jim, you only have to ask. Now, you must at least attempt to sleep. I will contact you later for chess, if you have no other pressing concerns?”

 

Jim laughed. “Presumptuous, aren’t we, Mr. Spock?” But even as he spoke, he could feel his eyes drooping.

 

“Always. Now rest, _ashal-veh_.”

 

The screen blanked out and Jim blinked happily, feeling warmer than he had in weeks.            


End file.
